


Spanner in the Works

by bamby0304



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Smut, mentions of past trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-10-09 03:49:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 25,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17399483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamby0304/pseuds/bamby0304
Summary: Your car breaks down, leaving you stranded in a small town. Waiting for your car to get the all clear, you find yourself getting closer to Sam Winchester, the handsome mechanic working on it. Will he be able to break down your walls? Or is this just a pit stop before you continue to run?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Using the square Meet Cute for my @spnkinkbingo card for this series.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Honestly, not much more than angst. Everything else is going to come later… (sorry Kelly!!)
> 
> Bamby

This was not the plan. You weren’t supposed to be stuck on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere. You weren’t supposed to be shivering in the cold night air as you waited for the tow truck to arrive. You weren’t supposed to be here.

No, the plan was to travel across country, find a job, and start over. The further away from your old life, the better.

Yet here you were, leaning against your hunk of junk car, in the dead of night.

Kicking at the dirt ground, hugging yourself to keep warm, you waited. There was nothing else you could do. You had no knowledge of cars- hell, you didn’t even know what kind of car you had. If it gets you from A to B that’s all you care about… apparently you should have cared more before trekking across the country.

The sound of a heavy vehicle heading down the road made you look up. You pushed off your car and watched as the faded blue tow pulled up behind you before the door opened.

A mix of fear and heat flushed through you as a giant of a man stepped out of the car. He was a few inches past six foot, and well built. Chestnut hair that was a little long and a little shaggy sat atop his head. The dark grey overalls he wore were greasy and open, revealing the thin white tank underneath.

Your knees buckled, as you fought the urge to faint or run.

“Y/N?” he asked, stepping closer. You nodded quickly and he cracked a boyish grin. “I’m Sam.” Stretching his hand out, he offered it to you.

There was a brief pause before you took the hand and shook it. His touch was pleasantly surprising. He didn’t hold you like you might break, but he didn’t hold you like he intended on breaking you either. Handshakes with men always revealed their character, and right now Sam seemed like a nice guy… but you’d been fooled before.

“So, what’s the problem?” He let go of your hand and turned to you car.

Scratching at the back of your neck, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I just… it stopped. I was driving down the road, everything was fine, but then the engine started to make a weird noise, and then it just rolled to a stop.”

Nodding, he pulled out his phone and checked the screen. “Well, why don’t I check under the hood, see if there’s anything I can do right now? You should get yourself in-” He cut himself short as he realised the state of your car. If he was going to suggest you take shelter in there, he quickly changed his mind. “Go sit in the truck,” he offered with a kind smile. “Turn the heat on, get warmed up. I’m sure I won’t take too long. Just gotta see what I’m working with.”

“O-okay.” Shifting on the spot for a second, you then turned on your heels and shuffled off towards the truck.

Pulling yourself up was a bit of a struggle. You were below average height and the truck was a mountain, but you managed. Once inside, you did as Sam said and turned on the heat, which blasted you with welcome warmth in an instant.

Music was already softly playing, some classic rock song that you thought you recognised but didn’t quite know. You bopped your head to the beat and watched Sam as opened up the hood of your car and got to work.

Watching him was interesting. The headlights of the truck illuminated him, giving you the opportunity to watch as he leaned over to examine the insides of your car. You wondered what he looked like under all those layers… before quickly shaking that thought away.

The plan did not involve crushing over some guy. You were running away from romance problems, not looking to make more.

_But there’s no harm in window shopping,_ you mind sang. _Enjoying the view won’t lead you into any danger. You’re just taking in the sights._

Rolling your eyes at your hormonal internal monologue, you crossed your arms over your chest and chose to scowl at the green light of the trucks digital clock.

Minutes ticked by before the driver’s side door opened. You jumped a little, turning to Sam with wide eyes.

His smile fell as his eyes grew apologetic. “Sorry… didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s…” you cleared your throat and shook your head, “it’s okay. So what’s the diagnosis?”

“To be honest, I can’t tell right now, but it looks like there might be something wrong with the motor. I can’t tell you exactly, but I do know it’s not a job for tonight,” he informed you and your heart deflated. “I’m gonna hook her up to the truck and head into town.”

Your eyes flicked back to the clock. “It’s 1:27 at night… the motel is closed, isn’t it?”

He sighed, nodding. “Yeah, unfortunately.” _Great._ “Look, I gotta hook her up. Just hold on a sec’,” he told you before closing the door and heading off.

_Now what are you gonna do?_ you asked yourself. _The motel is closed. Where are you going to sleep? It’s a Friday night, you know absolutely no one, and it’s not like you can call someone you do know… you ran off, remember?_

You were stranded and helpless… and the tears were beginning to spill. You could feel them, filling your eyes and threatening to escape, but you couldn’t let them. You wouldn’t let them. You refused to be the cliched sobbing damsel in distress.

Things had been worse than this before. Living on bare minimum, surviving on your own… you could figure this out.

Once your car was securely hooked up to the truck, Sam spilled behind the wheel- which took no effort at all- and started down the road.

The large vehicle shook, jumping every time Sam hit a pothole. He was drumming his fingers along with the music, focused on the road as he started to pick up the pace. Out of instinct, your grip curled into the worn leather seats as you squeezed your eyes shut.

Sam’s voice cut through the gathering storm of panic settling in your chest. “You okay?”

Head snapping up to meet his gaze, you looked at him with wide eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. “Huh?”

“You look like you’re on the edge of having a panic attack,” he noted.

“Oh…” You worried your lip, avoiding his gaze once more. “Sorry, it’s just that I get very nervous when someone else is driving.”

The truck slowed in an instant. “That better?”

Looking up at him again, you saw that same kind smile back on his lips. “Much. Thank you.”

Nodding, he got back to focussing on the road. You just sat there, fiddling with a loose string on the bench seat as you looked out the windshield.

There were things needed to be said, and while you didn’t _want_ to do the adult thing, you still had to.

“Do… do you think I’d be able to… sleep at the garage… in my car?” you asked with a small voice, avoiding his gaze. When he opened his mouth to respond, you quickly went on, “I spend most nights in there anyway. And if you’re worried about me doing anything, you can park her out on the road. I’ll be oka-”

“I’m not making you sleep in your car on the street,” he scoffed. “You can stay with my family if you want.” Your stomach dropped at the thought of intruding, but he didn’t give you a moment to argue. “I live in a trailer at the back of my parents’ place. My brother lives with me, too, but he won’t mind. Promise.”

Chewing on your lip, you didn’t bother responding. Instead you sat back, letting the car fall silent save for the rattling from the tow chains and the music. For the rest of the drive you tried to come up with a B option… but try as you might, your brain just kept drawing a blank.

**Bamby**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst. A bit of fluff.
> 
> Bamby

After dropping your car off at the garage, Sam headed back to the small town’s edges. The residential area thinned out, leading to a lot of open field and scattered houses. Soon he pulled into a dirt driveway.

You looked at the small house, noting the cottage feel despite how run down it looked. Parked on the grass was a beautiful and sleek black car, that you surprisingly admired even though you weren’t a car girl. Then your attention was turned to the Ford pick up, that was parked in front of what you’d call a rusty piece of junk.

“Home sweet home.” Sam smiled as he parked the tow in a spot just off the side of the house. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

Following him, you slipped out of the truck as delicately as possible, before walking around to meet him on the other side. He had pulled out the bag you’d grabbed from your car, and was now holding it as he waited for you.

“So, this is where I grew up. It’s a little run down, but it’s home,” he started, walking around the side of the house to the back. “Mum and Dad live up front here.” He gestured to the house. “But Dean and me live around back. That way I don’t wake Mum and Dad up when I wake up early, and Dean doesn’t wake them up when he gets in late.”

“Dean?” you asked with your mousy voice.

He nodded, eyes on the ground as he maneuvered through the patchy grass and dirt. “My big brother.”

Reaching the trailer, Sam pulled out some keys and unlocked the door before gesturing for you to enter. Ducking your head, you stepped in and then to the side as you waited for him to follow. He was right behind you, locking the door and hanging the keys on the hook nearby.

Scanning the area, you were surprised to find it so tidy. Considering two men occupied the place, you were expecting dirty dishes and laundry everywhere. You were expecting pizza boxes and beer bottles, and a funky smell. But, instead, the place was spotless.

“Wow…” You stared in awe.

Chuckling, Sam moved further into the trailer. “Yeah, Dean’s a neat freak.” He nodded as he lead you into the living room. “Okay so, this is a fold out couch. I’m happy to take it if you want an actual bed though. You can take my room, lock the door-”

“The couch is fine, Sam,” you assured him, offering a smile for added measure. “Thank you.”

A smile of his own tugged on his lips. “Well, I’ll set you up. If you want to shower or anything, the bathroom is the first door on the left.”

Mumbling your thanks, you took your bag as he offered it to you, and the scurried off towards the bathroom. The door was closed and locked behind you, giving a sense of privacy and security in this new and strange place.

He might be being hospitable, but you didn’t know him. You didn’t want to know him. All you wanted, and all you needed, was for your car to be fixed so you could hit the road and continue running. Getting close to people never ended well for you…

The shower wasn’t great, but considering you’d been living in your car for weeks it was the best shower you’d ever had. The water stayed warm, and the pressure was consistent for the most part. You’d experienced worse.

Finishing up, you used a towel you found in the cupboard under the sink to dry yourself and your hair off. Then you slipped into some long dark grey pants that hung loose on you these days, and an oversized band-T. Pulling your brush out of your bag, you started to run it through your wet hair as you emerged from the bathroom.

Sam was standing in the kitchen, leaning on the bench as he picked at his fingers. When you stepped out into the hallway he straightened up and turned his lips into a slightly awkward smile.

“I set up the bed. We don’t really have extra pillows, so I grabbed one of mine… hope that was okay?”

Nodding shyly, you headed into the living room to place your bag next to the couch that would be your bed for the night. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He nodded like nothing less should be expected from him. “Um, so there’s blankets in that trunk over there.” He gestured to the large wooden box in the corner of the room. “If it gets too cold, feel free to grab as many as you need. Mum is a bit of a knitter and she’s always sending things this way, even though Dean and I don’t need more blankets,” he chuckled lightly.

You smiled back at him, still feeling awkward but his relaxed demeanor was helping relax you. “I’m going to go to bed now…”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, sure.” He nodded, backing up. “My room is the last door down the hall.”

As he turned to leave you be, you called out to him, “Sam?”

“Hmm?” He turned on his heels to look at you again.

“Thank you. For everything.”

His smile this time was the most genuine and relaxed you’d seen all night. “Good night, Y/N.”

* * *

Tucked away under the blankets, you were trying to sleep. You really weren’t surprised that you were still awake, though. Sleeping had never been a skill of yours. Since you were a little girl, after that one night, you’d always feared what lay behind closed eyes. Now you had the added memories from last year, sights and sounds that shook your dreams and always turned them into nightmares.

So you were left flat on your back, staring at the off white ceiling of the stranger’s trailer. You were deep in thought, trying to figure out what might have gone wrong with your car, when you heard movement outside.

You froze, skin tingling with anxiety that kept you frozen in place. The movement got closer, and was soon joined by the sound of keys jostling, followed by the quiet scrape of metal sliding against metal, and then a click as the door was unlocked.

With wide eyes, you bolted upright and clutched the blankets to your chest as the door began to open. When the person stepped into the trailer and turned the light on, they came to a complete stop at the sight of you.

“Um… hi.”

“Hi,” you squeaked back.

Eyes glued on you, he called over his shoulder, “Sammy!”

A few seconds passed before a door further in the trailer opened, and then Sam emerged, rubbing at his eyes. “What?”

Ignoring Sam’s tone, the new man pointed at you. “There’s a girl in the living room.”

“I know.” Sam rolled his eyes. “This is Y/N. Her car broke down a few miles out of town. I had to pick her up.”

“And you didn’t think to send her to the motel? Garth has space.”

“It’s was too late. Place was closed.”

“Ellen always has a room at the back of the bar,” the new guy countered.

Sam scoffed, “You think I’m gonna send her to a bar in the middle of the night? She knows no one, and she was nervous enough with me.”

“So, what? You thought you’d just loan our couch out?”

You cleared your throat, shifting on the spot. “I didn’t mean to intrude…”

“You’re not,” Sam assured you. “Dean’s just being a dick.”

“Dean…” You looked from Sam to the other man, taking in his appearance.

The resemblance was clear now. You could see it in the line of their jaw and the shape of their noses. There was a similar ruggedness about the two young men.

“He’s your brother,” you noted, turning back to Sam.

He nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but Dean beat him to it. “You just called me a dick.” He punched Sam in the arm.

“I call it how I see it.” Sam punched him back. “She’s not hurting anyone, but if you don’t drop the subject I’ll hurt you,” he warned.

Dean grumbled something under his breath as he nodded. “Fine. But she better not touch my Cookie Crisps.” With one more quick glance at you, Dean then shuffled off down the hall.

Sighing, Sam watched his brother leave before turning to you. “Sorry about him.”

“Sam… I don’t want to cause any problems.”

“You’re not. It’s okay. Just… try to get back to sleep. I’ll take you to the garage later. We’ll figure out what’s wrong with your car, and then we’ll see where we have to go from there.” The smile that tugged on his lips was tired and slightly forced. “Just sleep, Y/N. Don’t worry.”

He turned and retreated back to his room, running his fingers through his hair as he did. You watched him, sitting upright until you heard the sound of his door closing. Now alone once more, you laid back down and got back to staring at the ceiling.

**Bamby**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst. Panic attack. Lil’ bit of fluff.
> 
> Bamby

Sam was an early riser. He was up before the sun and ready to go for a jog. You pretended to be asleep, trying your best not to overthink the fact that you could feel him glancing in your direction as he drank his juice. You just stayed silent, curled up in a ball, hidden underneath the layers of blankets.

By the time he returned forty minutes later, the sun was peeking over the horizon. You could see the beautiful golden colours streaming through the kitchen window from where you sat on the fold out couch.

“You’re awake,” Sam seemed surprised as he walked into the trailer, finding you sitting up in bed, knees tucked to your chest.

Tucking your hair behind your ear, you nodded. “Yeah… I don’t sleep much.”

He didn’t comment on that, but instead chose to move into the kitchen. “You want anything to eat or drink? We got coffee, juice, milk… I could make you a smoothie.”

“Wouldn’t that wake your brother?”

Grinning, he shrugged. “Yeah, and?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you shook your head at him. “Thank, but no thanks. I think I’ll just take a coffee.”

“Party pooper.” He winked at you and turned to grab you your drink. He didn’t see the look that crossed your face as you practically died.

There was just something about Sam that made you weak in the knees. Add that wink on top… you suddenly felt like you needed a cold shower.

“So, when do you want to head down to the garage?” he asked as he came into the living room, carrying two cups of coffee. “The shop doesn’t open until nine, but I can start early. Check out what’s wrong with your car and hopefully fix it.”

“I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

“You’re not. Really.” Stretching over your ‘bed’ he handed you one of the coffees. “I like to get to work before everyone else. I can get some paperwork done. The place is always so noisy during the day. And I also get to clock off early.”

“You picked me up at 1:30 in the morning… that doesn’t sound like you clock off early to me.”

“I was on call. Dad, Dean and I take turns,” he explained, lips tugged up into an amused grin. “So when do you wanna head out?”

* * *

Once you were at the garage Sam got to work. He set you up in the office with blankets and coffee, to keep you from the chilly morning air. He didn’t seem fazed by it, though, as he started to check your car over.

You were flicking through a magazine, barely paying attention as a cloud of anxiety began to gnaw on your chest. Not knowing what was wrong with your car, and not knowing how long it would take to get it fixed, was starting to make you worry.

Unable to handle waiting any longer, you dumped the magazine onto the desk and placed your coffee mug down next to it, before getting up and leaving the office.

Dressed in more overalls, Sam was leaning over your hood and  looking into the engine. There was more rock playing in the background, barely audible over the clanging and clunking coming from Sam working.

“Hey,” you called cautiously, not wanting to worry him. “How’s it looking?”

Sighing, he pulled back and turned to you as he wiped his hands on a dirty rag. “I’m not gonna lie, Y/N… it doesn’t look good.”

You’re face fell. “How bad is it?”

“Did you gas up not too long before your car started making the noises?”

“Uh… yeah.” You nodded. “A couple of hours beforehand I pulled into a gas station. Place was in this out of the way town, no one was around, it was a little creepy. But I was practically running on empty.” Frowning, you looked from him, to the car, and then back. “You think that might be the problem?”

He eyed you for a moment before asking, “How much do you know about cars? Or your car?”

“I know more about you,” you answered honestly.

Chucking lightly, he then made an awkward noise as he turned back to the engine. “Long story short… the motor is shot. It needs replacing. My best guess is that the gas you got was bottom of the barrel crap. It’s an honest mistake. Most cars have fail safes that’ll prevent the debris or whatever from ruining the motor. But your car…” he shook his head, saying nothing else.

“How much is it going to cost?”

“Between five to seven grand.”

It was like a kick to the chest. Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you nodded. “And how long will it take?”

“I can’t work on it extensively right now. We’ve got other customers. Dad’s a stickler for running things smoothly, and he’s all about order. He probably won’t mind if I work on her on my off hours, though.” His face scrunched up like he was getting ready to flinch. “But I’m going to have to order the part in… so it’s going to be at least a week.”

You couldn’t breathe. Turnings away from him, running a hand over your head, you felt your throat tighten as a familiar panic set in.

“A week? That’s a week I have to pay for a motel. A week I have to pay for food. I don’t have enough money for all of that. How am I supposed to pay to get my car done? Five to seven grand? Does that include labour? Does it include the part? It’s probably cheaper to buy a new car. Knowing my luck, there won’t be a car for sale around here. Not one I can afford. What am I supposed to do for a week? Get a job? I’m not fit for a job. I freak out at the drop of a hat. I’m a walking talking ticking time bomb waiting to explode into a full blown panic-”

Hands suddenly grabbed your shoulders and turned you. “Relax Y/N. Breathe,” Sam told you, looking into your eyes with concern but control. He was determined to get you to calm down.

Shutting up, you took in a shaky breath, keeping your eyes locked onto his as you did.

“Good.” He nodded. “And again.”

For the next few minutes, the two of you just stood there trying to get you to calm down. Sam didn’t seem to mind, he was very patient and very kind. Slowly he began to smile as he saw and felt you really start relax.

“Better?”

All you could manage was a simple nod and small hum.

“Now… I know I’m a stranger, and I know you don’t know me, but I have the fold out couch. Or, if Dean is gonna be too much of a dick about it and you’d rather avoid him, Mum and Dad have a spare room.”

“I couldn’t-”

“You can,” he insisted. “But if you really don’t want to, I can talk to Garth. He owns the motel with his wife, Bess. They’re friends. They won’t mind doing some kind of deal. Or there’s Ellen, she owns the bar. You could work there and earn your keep, maybe get some tips to help pay for the car.”

Staring up at him, you found it amazing that he had so much faith in these people. You found it amazing that he was being this nice. It’s not that you hadn’t met people like him, it’s just that they very rarely paid you much mind.

When he was sure you wouldn’t freak out, he spoke again, “Okay?”

“O-okay.”

“Good.” His lips pulled up into a smile. “Why don’t you go back into the office? Crash on the couch and watch something on the computer or TV. Help yourself to coffee, or any cookies if Dean left some in the jar. I’m just going to do a couple of things out here.”

“Okay,” you repeated, stepping back. “Thank you, Sam.”

He nodded. “Of course. Now go on. Make yourself at home.”

Doing as he said, you turned on your heels and headed back into the office. Once inside you flicked on the television and sat yourself on the couch that looked like it was from the 70s. Flicking to an early morning news show, you let the voices distract you from the panicking all over again.

**Bamby**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst. Fluff.
> 
> Bamby

While trying to focus on the TV screen, you found yourself glancing out the office window that looked into the garage.

Sam was still working, moving about, and you found your eyes drawn to him. To the way he leaned into engines. The way he laid back on one of the scooter things that let him slide under the car smoothly. His legs would bend, and your eyes would follow the length of them. You watched him flick his hair out of his face, and adjust his overalls every now and then.

You were pulled away from your trance as a tall and broad man and a woman with long blonde hair came into the garage. The man and Sam shared short nods and good mornings, while the woman stepped up to Sam with a wide smile. She pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheek, still smiling ear to ear.

The woman held Sam a moment longer before she pulled away and turned to the office. You ducked down as she and Sam looked to you, not wanting them to think you were watching them… that would be weird…

A moment later the office door opened as Sam and the woman stepped inside.

“Y/N, this is my mum, Mary Winchester,” Sam introduced.

Quickly pulling yourself up to your feet, you returned Mary’s bright smile with a small one of your own.

“Hi!” She beamed, stretching her hand out towards you. You took shook it, thankful that her handshake wasn’t as intimidating as her smile. “So, Sam says your car broke down last night and that you crashed on his couch.”

“Oh…” Your eyes darted from her, to Sam, and then back. “Yeah, I’m really sorry if I intruded, I just… it was late and Sam didn’t want me staying in the car. I mean, I offered, it would have been fine. I’ve been living in that thing for weeks, I really wouldn’t have minded-”

She lifted a hand, cutting you off. “Relax sweetie, you didn’t intrude.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners as her smile turned fond. “Sam was right, you shouldn’t stay in your car. But he also said it won’t be ready for at least a week, and you’re worried about accomodation.”

“He said his motel friend could-”

Again, she cut you off, “I’m not having you sleeping in some lonely motel room when there is plenty of space under my roof. We’re not going to force you, but you should really stay with us.”

“I already have to pay you for my car… I don’t want to have to owe you for accommodation.”

But Mary was adamant, “We’re Winchesters, sweetie. We help those in need.”

“That’s right,” the man she’d arrived with said as he walked into the office. Mary turned, her smile growing at the sight of him as he wrap an arm around her waist. “So… what’s your story?” he asked.

“Uh, Dad… this is Y/N,” Sam started. He looked to you then. “Y/N, this is my dad, John Winchester.”

“Sam picked her up last night, hun,” Mary explained, looking up at her husband. “She’s been sleeping in her car.”

“Not in a homeless kind of way,” you quickly interjected. “I mean… I don’t have a home, but it’s by choice. I… I left everything behind to travel across the country.”

John nodded, looking you over. “You been working on the way?”

“No.” Your eyes fell to your hands as you fiddled with your fingers. “I’ve been surviving on some money I saved up.”

“And it’s running out.” It wasn’t a question. John could read the room.

You thought for sure he was about to send you on your way. You were so used to people not caring about others, you didn’t think there was a way this man would be kind enough to help you out. Plus, he was intimidating, being almost as tall as Sam but bulkier. He made you feel a little nervous…

“Where’d she sleep last night?” he asked, turning to Sam. “You logged the call out late… motel wouldn’t have been open. You take her to Ellen’s?”

“No sir,” Sam answered. “She slept on the fold out couch in the trailer. She wanted to sleep in her car, but I wouldn’t have it.”

“Good.” John gave a sharp nod. “Girl like her shouldn’t be shacked up in a place like Ellen’s. And Garth is overbearing. He means well, but she’s jumpier than a flea. She can stay with us.”

Eyes wide, you looked up at the man. “Wait… what? Seriously?” Your gaze flicked to each of them. “I couldn’t possibly-”

“Sam,” John interrupted you, turning to his son, “what’s the car look like?”

“Motor’s shot. Needs replacing.”

“You know the drill, first in first served. We can’t neglect everyone else. But if you want, you can work on her car in your down time. Check to see what parts you’ll need to order and get on top of it.” John looked to you then. “It’ll take a few days before the part gets here. There’s nothing we can do about that. So you’re gonna be stuck with us for a little while.” His arm that was still wrapped around his wife’s waist gave her a bit of a squeeze. “Mary here’ll take care of you. Show you around town and everything.”

Mary’s face lit up. “Oh I’d love a girls’ day out!” she exclaimed.

“Then it’s settled.” John nodded. “You two head out, make sure you got everyting Y/N might need. Then head on home. I don’t care if she crashes with us or with the boys. Get her settled.”

“Um… I think Dean would prefer it if I stayed with you,” you noted, looking to John and Mary.

Not understanding, John gave his son a questioning frown.

“He came home early this morning,. Another late night. He was in a mood and said some shit,” Sam explained.

Giving a curt nod, John turned to you. “Dean can suck it up. You sleep where you wanna sleep, it’s your choice. I’ll sort Dean out.”

“Your really don’t have to do that,” you told him, eyes looking from him to Sam nervously. “I don’t want to cause any problems.”

“You’re not. Dean knows better.”

Mary nodded at her husband’s words. “Yes. Yes he does.” She gave John’s chest a pat. “Now, you two should head off to work. Y/N and I are going to head on over to Charlie’s. Want me to bring you anything back for lunch?”

“Turkey sub with extra onions,” John answered as he leaned down to peck her lips. “And a muffin.”

“Of course.” She smiled at her husband and then turned to Sam. “Anything for you?”

“Salad bowl with shredded chicken, please Mum.”

“Anything for my boys.” She gave a sharp nod and stepped away from her husband, grabbing your hand. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go have our girls’ day.”

You were helpless as she practically pulled you along, heading towards the open garage shutters, in the direction of the pickup that you’d seen last night.

“Don’t forget about Dean,” Sam called. “Bacon cheese burger. He might be a dick, but he still gets hungry.”

Mary didn’t respond. She simply chuckled as she kept pulling you along, leading you towards the vehicle.

As you let the woman drag you away, you turned to look over your shoulder. John was already going through paperwork, getting ready to start the day. Sam, though, was just standing there, watching you with this half smile that made your cheeks flush and gaze drop out of embarrassment. He didn’t turn away until John whacked him with some papers and grumbled something under his breath.

Climbing into the truck, you watched Sam a moment more and found yourself sighing contently. There was just something about the guy that made you feel… well, he made you feel a lot of things, and all of it made you feel… good.

_That’s a first…_

**Bamby**


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Fluff. Angst.
> 
> Bamby

The bell above the door chimed as Mary opened it. She took a step to the side and smiled as she gestured for you to walk in ahead of her. Fiddling with your fingers in front of you, you stepped into the diner and then waited before Mary led you over to a booth.

She was a very bubbly woman, so bright and happy. Her smile had never faltered as she drove down the road and into town. She’d greeted each person you came across, with a nod or a wave. She showed everyone with the same kindness she’d shown you.

Not many people had treated you like she did. There were a select few in your past, but the majority of people who crossed your path were entitled, overbearing, rude, dismissive, impatient. Your timid nature hardly brought out the best in people.

“So, what do you want for breakfast, dear?” she asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

Glancing down at your menu, you scanned the offered items before picking something simple and safe. “Coffee and oatmeal is fine.”

Mary’s jaw almost hit the table. “Oatmeal? On our girls’ day out? Y/N, you can have _anything_ you want. Whatever you don’t eat, we’ll take home. Don’t feel like you have to hold back… for _any_ reason.”

Her meaning was clear. She could tell you were trying not to be any more of a burden than you already thought you were. Getting your car fixed, accommodation… taking food from her would just add to your list of things you had to repay.

“Tell you what,” her smile returned, “I’m ordering pancakes. With bacon. _And_ eggs. We’ll get two orders of that and whatever is left over, if you don’t want it, will go to the boys. I bet they’d love some crispy bacon.”

Coming up with no reason to argue, you gave a tentative nod. “Okay.”

“Perfect.” She beamed.

Barely a moment passed before a young red headed woman appeared by your table. “Mrs Winchester!” She looked down at Mary with shining eyes. “I didn’t know you were coming in this morning.”

Mary turned her smile to the young woman. “I didn’t know either. Sam sprung a surprise on me this morning.” She gestured to you. “Charlie, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Charlie, she owns the diner.”

Charlie appeared to be around your age, early twenties and all her life ahead of her. You could tell she was a bundling ball of energy by the way she smiled down at you, all bright teeth and crinkling eyes. It amazed you that someone so close you your age could be so different. So successful in life and comfortable in her own skin.

“Hi!” Charlie offered you her hand. “Not every day we get new people in town,” she noted as you took her hand and let her shake yours enthusiastically. “Don’t let appearances fool you, this isn’t _just_ a diner. We’ve got a comic book store in the basement and all the free wifi a nerd could dream of. The password is on the back of every menu. Speaking of which,” she pulled a notepad out, “what can I get you today?”

You sat there and waited as Mary rattled off your order. Charlie gave a short nod and another smile, promising the food wouldn’t be long, before she hurried off. Once alone, Mary turned back to you.

“Charlie and Sam were classmates. Best of friends. Practically inseparable.” She smiled fondly.

As she went on to change the subject, you only half listened to her story about the pair’s childhood. The rest of you was suddenly focused on the thought of this red headed wonder woman and Sam. Their inseperable bond. How deep did that bond go?

You felt an extra layer of insecurity settle inside you as you sat there, picturing the two together. All you could think about was Sam and Charlie. Holding hands. Smiling. Laughing. Leaning on each other. Sharing jokes. Sharing food. Sharing a bed…

“Y/N?”

Jostled out of your thoughts once more, you looked to Mary with wide eyes. “Sorry… lost my train of thought.”

“It’s all right, dear.” Her smile turned down a notch, going from bubbly to motherly. “You know, I would love to hear more about you.”

“Me?” You couldn’t hide the shock from your voice and face.

She nodded, chuckling lightly. “Yes. You. I’m not going to push or press, but it’s clear you’re a very nervous person, Y/N. I want you to open up, in your own time, and become comfortable with us. We’re here for you, and I want you to believe that.”

You couldn’t remember the last time someone had wanted to get to know you… you couldn’t remember the last time someone cared enough to want to listen.

“I, um… I was a librarian,” you started, offering something small to start. That tiny dollop of information was more than you’d given anyone in years.

Mary’s face lit up all over again. “A librarian? You must love books!”

“Yes.” A smile of your own, albeit small in comparison to hers, tugged on your lips. “I wanted to be a writer.”

“Wanted?” She watched you carefully, smile toning down once more. “You don’t want to write anymore?”

Shrugging, you found your gaze falling to the table in front of you. “It’s had to be a writer when you don’t have any original or exciting ideas.”

“Doesn’t mean you should give up your dreams, dear,” she countered just as Charlie reappeared with your food.

“Here we go!” The redhead plopped the plates in front of you both. “I’m jot it down on the garage’s bill. Make the boys pay for your breakfast.” She gave you and Mary a wink. “You two have a great day. It was really nice meeting you. Hope I’ll see ya again.” She beamed down at you before heading off to go back to work.

“She’s really nice,” you noted, watching her retreating form.

Mary nodded, grabbing her knife and fork. “She really is,” she agreed, not catching the sad and jealous glint in your eyes.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Charlie… more you didn’t like the fact she was this incredible person, and you were, well… you.

* * *

Mary had shown you most of the town. You’d stuck to the main street for the most part, considering that’s where all the stores were, but you did venture out a little.

She showed you where the doctor’s office was, and where the library was. She took you to the school and pointed some spots that were significant to Sam and Dean back when they were students. She showed you the park, and showed you the flower patch she and Sam had planted one mother’s day. She even took you to the church where she and John were married.

It was clear Mary was very proud of her home and her family.

You also didn’t miss the fact that everywhere you went, people were always stopping to say hi. Apparently, the Winchester family were very popular.

By the end of the day, you’d met more people than you’d ever known in your entire life time- which wasn’t much, to be honest. Everyone was pretty welcoming as Mary introduced you to them. Just like Mrs Winchester herself, they were all smiles and manners.

It was very overwhelming, so when you were just about ready to crash by lunch time, it wasn’t really a surprise.

Parking the truck outside of the garage, Mary reached into the back to grab the bag of food she’d picked up from Charlie’s. “Come on, dear. Let’s get some food into these boys.” Her smile was still plastered on her lips as she got out of the car.

Dragging yourself out, you followed her with your arms in front of you, hugging yourself close as you kept your gaze to the ground. Your social batteries had well and truly run out, and all you wanted to do now was sleep and recharge.

Walking into the noisy garage, you stay two to three steps behind Mary as she headed right over to John.

“Hey, honey.” She leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek.

The gruff man softened under his wife’s touch, leaning in for a second kiss. She chuckled and complied, pressing her lips to his cheek one more time.

“Thanks.” John took the bag of food from Mary and turned to the rest of the garage. “Grubs here, boys!”

The noise in the garage mostly stopped, save for the sound of some classic rock softly playing on a radio somewhere. Sam and Dean appeared from behind cars, all covered in grease and sweat.

Your eyes went wide and mouth went dry at the sight of Sam.

His overalls were hanging around his hips, the sleeves tied together to hold it in place. The tank top he wore must have been white once, but was now a dirty grey and covered in much. He had grease and oil splotches all over him, with his skin covered in a sheen of sweat.

As soon as he spotted you, his face lit up. “Hey.”

“H-hi.”

Dean reached John first, reaching into the bag his father offered and pulling out a sub. His eyes quickly turned to you as he ripped open the paper wrapped around the food. Watching you, he took a large bite of his food that made his cheeks puff out.

You squirmed under his gaze, looking away and trying to shift to make yourself disappear behind Mary slightly.

Sam came over to his father and brother then, give Dean a hard punch to the arm. “You’re freaking her out.”

“Noh mah fal she so skiddish,” Dean tried to say as he chomped on the food in his mouth.

“Dean!” Mary glared at her oldest son. “Manners! Don’t talk with a mouth full of food. And be nice to Y/N. She’s our guest.”

“Listen to your mother, boy,” John warned.

Looking to both of his parents, Dean sighed before dropping his gaze back onto you. He took a moment to finish his mouth full of food before saying, “Sorry.”

“I-it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Sam argued, coming over to stand in front of you, blocking your view of his brother. “Dean’s a dick. It’s just his personality. You get used to it.” He smiled down at you, his eyes searching yours as you looked up at him. “Have you had lunch?”

You quickly shook your head. “I have a sandwich.”

Turning to his parents, Sam reached out for the bag. Without missing a beat, John handed your sandwich over. Once it was in his hand, Sam looked back down at you. “Wanna go eat on the truck with me?”

Without your consent, your head began to nod before your mouth followed its lead. “O-okay.”

His smile grew as he gestured for you to walk with him, and again, you found your body moving without your mind agreeing. It seemed despite your social batteries running low, you still wanted to be with Sam.

**Bamby**


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Fluff. Angst.
> 
> Bamby

You watched, standing back as Sam jumped up onto the tow truck’s tray. Turning, he offered you a gentle smile and his hand. You ducked your head and accepted it, letting him pull you up to join him.

He didn’t let go of your hand right away, and your heart fluttered with nerves and something more.

A second or so passed and his hand fell from yours before he started towards the other end of the tray. You followed, hands in front of you a little awkwardly. The silence between you was playing at your anxiety and uncertainties. You weren’t exactly sure how you were supposed to approach a conversation with someone like Sam.

Taking a seat, he leaned against the cab and gave the spot beside him a pat. “Come on. Sit.” He smiled up at you.

Cheeks heating ever so slightly, you did as he said and settled in the spot to his left.

Neither of you spoke as you unwrapped your sandwiches. You nibbled on the edge, looking out at the road and the woods in front of you. Sam’s bite was marginally larger than yours as he l looked up at the sky. After a moment, he swallowed and turned to you.

“How’s your day been?”

“Good.” You nodded, looking down at your food. “Your mum is really nice. Everyone is.”

“Except Dean,” he chuckled lightly.

“He’s not that bad,” you insisted.

“Y/N.” Dragging your gaze up, you met his as he looked down at you thoughtfully. “Dean is being a dick. You don’t need to pretend otherwise. You don’t need to pretend at all. You’re okay here,” he promised.

You melted. Looking into those, you felt a weight shift from your shoulders. For the first time in too long, you took in a deep breath.

His lips pulled into a wider smile. “So… have you thought about where you want to stay?”

“Your parents aren’t going to let me stay anywhere other than your place.”

He laughed, the sound full and intoxicating. Eventually he managed to calm himself down. “True.” Tilting his head, he watched you carefully. “But I was wondering if you were staying with them… or with me.”

Without a doubt, your heart stopped beating. Just for a moment, but it still happened. You still felt it.

“I… um…” Losing control, feeling yourself slip into a panic, your eyes shot down to your sandwich again, giving you the reprieve you needed. “I don’t think staying with you is a good idea. I don’t want to upset Dean anymore than I already have.”

Sam’s eyes never wavered. You could feel them on you, but you couldn’t meet them. Already, you were so overwhelmed, he just made it so much more intense.

“Don’t worry about Dean,” he finally said. “Do whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

The tiny whimper that spilled from your lips was uncontrollable.

Eyes going wide, you tensed at the sound. Embarrassment flashed through you, freezing your muscles and burning your cheeks.

Behind you, Sam shifted ever so slightly. It was barely noticeable, but you sure did notice. Neither of you commented though, which you were grateful for. Instead, he breezed right over the sound, as if it never happened.

“So, where do you _want_ to stay?”

“With your parents,” you answered with a small voice. “Nothing against you, but I would feel more comfortable giving Dean his space.”

“That’s okay,” Sam assured you. “If you ever change your mind though… I know my mum can be very overwhelming.”

 _And you’re not?_ Slowly, you let your eyes drift over to settle on his lips- you didn’t have it in you to meet his gaze again. “Thank you, Sam.”

His smile made you all the more nervous. “You’re welcome, Y/N.”

The two of you got back to silence and your sandwiches, happily eating next to each other. You didn’t feel pressure to come up with mindless chatter when with Sam. Despite having only met him last night, you felt at ease with him. Well, as at ease as you could feel.

He finished first, unsurprisingly. What did surprise you, however, was when he remained where he was, content in sitting there as you continued to eat.

Realising what he was doing, you tried to finish faster, but Sam was quick to notice.

“You don’t have to do that,” he assured you. “In fact, the longer you take the longer I can sit here. Don’t have to work.”

Pausing, you pressed a hand to your mouth and swallowed what was in your mouth, before asking, “I’m not boring you.”

“No.” He shook his head, eyes sparkling with that kindness that made your heart sing. “I like sitting with you.”

Baffled, you just sat there, staring at him wide eyed.

He laughed. “Don’t look so shocked.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” you admitted.

He just laughed harder, the sound warming you from the inside. “You’re cute, you know that?”

_Have I died and gone to heaven?_

Watching your reaction, his smile just grew wider. “You’re not used to compliments.”

“Not from strangers.”

“I’d like to be more than strangers,” he blurted, eyes widening as he realised what he said. “I mean… I’m not… I don;t mean… I’m not implying…”

It was your turn to smile up at him. “Nice to know I’m not the only awkward one.”

Knowing you weren’t upset with him, he relaxed. “Gosh, I thought for sure that would have come out the wrong way.”

 _Wouldn’t be a bad thing_ , the hormonal part of your mind wiggled its eyebrows.

You did your best to ignore the heat that rose with that thought, and instead focused on the conversation at hand. “It’s okay, Sam,” you assured him. “I know what you meant.”

“Good.”

Again, you fell into silence as you ate the last of your sandwich.

When you finished, Sam stood and offered you his hand before pulling you up to your feet. You walked beside him this time, moving to the end of the tray. He jumped down effortlessly and then turned back to look up at you. Crouching down by the edge, you held your breath as he grabbed your waist and helped you down.

Once your feet were placed firmly on the ground you straightened and looked up at Sam to say your thanks. But as you met his eyes, you found him gazing down at you with an unreadable expression.

Your pulse quickened.

“I should get back to work.”

“Y-yeah.” You nodded.

After a moment’s pause, he let you go and took a step back. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.”

Chuckling lightly, he turned on his heels and headed back towards the garage, leaving you standing there, desperately trying to calm your racing heart.

* * *

Mary meant well, but you needed rest. The woman hadn’t stopped talking, and by now you were absorbing nothing. Your brain was mush, overexerted from the day’s activities. First you’d met Mr and Mrs Winchester, then you’d been introduced to the majority of the town’s residence, and then you’d shared lunch with Sam.

It had been impossible to stop thinking about him, which was bad. It was dangerous. It was not something you wanted or needed. It was not part of your plan.

A plan you had a use for. There was a reason you were out here. Sure, running wasn’t the healthiest option, but with the problems you had there seemed to be no other choice, It was best to keep moving, to stay away from people, to keep them from getting hurt.

If Sam were to get hurt because of you… the thought made you feel sick to your stomach.

“Mary…”

Her mouth clamped shut, cutting whatever she’d been saying off. “Yes dear?”

“I… I was wondering if you could show me to my room. I… I really need to lay down.”

In the blink of an eye, she went from friendly to motherly.

You watched as she quickly gathered blankets from the hallway closet as she led you down the hallway. She moved as fast as she spoke, practically a blur in front of you.

“Okay, so we have spar blankets here,” she set the blankets down on the heavy wooden dresser, “and if you need more pillows there’s some in the room next door.” She offered you a smile as she walked over to the window. “It’s going to be a cold night, so I suggest keeping the window closed, but the sunset is beautiful from this angle,” she noted as she opened the curtains.

Taking in the room, you quickly realised it had once been one of the boys.

Shelves on the wall were lined with trophies, too far to read from where you stood. Most of them were for academics, but there were a good amount of sports ones as well. The forest green walls, dark floor boards, and chunky bed were very masculine compared to the quaintness of the rest of the house. The bedding was cream, but that was no doubt a choice made by Mary now that the room was unoccupied.

“We’ll stick your things in here for now,” she said as she grabbed your bag from where it sat by the door, and took it over to the wardrobe. “If you want to shower, the bathroom is just across the hall. There’s towel in the cupboard. Help yourself.” As she turned to you, her smile was back in place. “Same goes for food. You get hungry, you eat, okay?”

“Okay.” You gave a nod, even though you knew there was no way you’d be taking food without it being offered.

A flicker in her eyes suggested she was thinking the same thing, but she didn’t comment. “Okay, well I’m going to go do some work in the office.” Stepping towards you, she gave your arm a pat and a rub. “You rest up, dear.”

Smiling back at her, you watched as she slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her. As soon as you were alone, you crawled onto the bed and curled yourself into a ball. It didn’t take as long as usual- though it still took a while- before you found yourself drifting off to sleep.

**Bamby**


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Panic attack. Blood.
> 
> Bamby

When you woke, you definitely felt more refreshed. You weren’t ready to take on the world, but you felt okay enough to creep out of the room with the hope to find something that would silence your grumbling stomach.

Sure enough, all the Winchesters were gathered around in the living room, watching the news. As soon as you walked in, Mary perked up.

“Y/N!” She beamed. “Feeling better, dear? You must be hungry. Here, let me fix your something to eat.”

As you opened your mouth to assure her you could manage on your own, she shot out of her seat and hurried into the kitchen.

“Don’t bother,” Sam chuckling. “She’s going to mother hen you forever now.” Turning to his left, he punched Dean in the arm.

“Ow!” Dean glared at his brother, rubbing his arm. “Can you _please_ stop hitting me?!”

Sam ignored him. “Get up. Y/N needs a seat.”

Dean’s glare just grew. “Why does she need this one?”

“Move, before I move you myself,” Sam warned.

Grumbling under his breath, Dean pushed himself off the couch with a little more effort than necessary. He gave you a quick glance as he stomped over to the window and plopped himself on the floor.

Looking to you again, Sam smiled as he gave the now empty spot beside him a pat. “Come on.”

You couldn’t help but look over at Dean as you hesitated.

“Take the seat, Y/N,” John spoke up, taking a sip of his beer. “Dean needs to learn to be more welcoming. He’s fine on the floor.”

Knowing nothing you said would change their minds, you ducked your head and slid into the spot next to Sam.

Everyone turned back to the news, comments getting passed around here and there. Dean and John mostly talked to each other, complaining about whatever the reported was talking about. Soon Mary returned and handed you a bowl of spaghetti, before she set herself down on the free recliner that sat by John’s.

You watched as they automatically reached out for each other, their fingers intertwining as their eyes stayed focused on the screen.

Twirling your fork in the pasta as you ate, you almost jumped right out of your skin as Sam leaned in a little.

“How is it?”

“Umm…” you glanced down at the food and then met his gaze, “good.”

His eyes squinted ever so slightly, trying to read whether you were lying or not. “Not just saying that to be polite?”

“No,” you assured him, shaking your head. “I like it.”

“Good.” He nodded, pulling back. “If you want some more-”

“Stop babying the girl, Sam, and watch the fucking TV.”

“Dean!” Mary snapped. “Language.”

“Like she hasn’t heard the word ‘fuck’ before.” Dean rolled his eyes.

John pushed the leg rest of his recliner back into place. “Boy-”

“It’s okay,” you interrupted before Dean could get into any more trouble. “I’m… I’m not fragile, but mousy. I don’t want you guys acting differently because of me.” You looked down at the ground, unable to meet anyone’s gaze as you spoke, “Dean can say fuck if he wants to. It’s just a word.”

There was a short silence, only the sound of the news reported filling in the empty space as everyone stared at you. There was no way to tell _how_ they were staring, though, as your gaze remained on the ground. Eventually, they all turned back to the TV, remaining in silence as you picked at the rest of your food.

Before Mary could fuss about your dishes, you got to your feet and hurried into the kitchen. She made a sound to protest, but somehow Sam managed to keep her in the living room. You didn’t hear what he said, but the way he reached over to pat her arm made you smile.

Once he was sure his mother would stay seated, he got up and headed towards you. “So…”

“So…”

“I was wondering if you want to come with me to the garage tomorrow? I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Really?”

“Seriously.” He smiled kindly.

“O-okay.”

“Great! So… maybe I could have your number? So I could text you when I’m ready to go. It’ll be around the same time, but just in case…”

 _Smooth…_ that annoying part of your brain nodded approvingly.

As you rattled off your number, your brain did that thing where it wandered without your permission. Your eyes began to take in the sight of him, dressed in jeans, and a light grey and blue flannel. The first few buttons were undone, giving you a peak at what lay underneath.

_Wonder if he shaves… everywhere…  
_

“I um… I’m gonna go shower,” you bluttered, backing up towards the hallway. “I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay! Good night!” he called as you turned and hastily moved towards the bathroom.

* * *

You woke with a start.

Heart beating hard in your chest, sweat glistening on your forehead, you shot up in bed. You couldn’t breathe as a pressure built in your chest. It was tight and all consuming. It crushed your ribs like a strong fist that would not let go.

Fumbling in the dark, your hand shot out and reached for your phone as it sat on the bedside table. In your panicked state, you accidentally knocked the glass of water that sat there, sending it to the ground.

The glass smashed on the ground.

“Shit. No. Oh no.” Head thrumming, limbs shaking, you tried to pull yourself out of bed to pick up the mess.

Your foot landed on a broken piece of glass, and you screamed.

Not a minute later, the bedroom door flew open as John and Mary hurried in. John turned the light on and quickly grabbed his wife to stop her from going any further as his eyes landed on the glass.

“Oh…” Mary took in the sight of your state. “Oh, hold on, dear. Let me just…” You didn’t hear the rest of what she said as she darted out of the room.

You still couldn’t breathe, and John was quick to realise.

Moving carefully, he avoided the water and glass as he started towards you. “Y/N, darlin’, what’s wrong?”

“I- I… I can’t-” You gestured at yourself, trying to catch your breath.

He nodded, seeming to understand. “Okay. It’s okay, just… just look at me. Can you do that? Can you look at me?”

Tears streaming down your face as your foot throbbed, you turned to look up at him.

He smiled encouragingly. “Good girl. Now, I need you to do what I do, okay? Just, breathe in,” he took a deep breath in, “and then out,” he let the breath go. “Come on, you can do it.”

Watching him, you followed his lead. At first it was hard, you couldn’t focus with the pain in your foot and the panic in your chest, but as you continued to watch him, you found yourself regaining some control. Focusing on the way his shoulder rose and lips moved, you did as he did and gradually calmed your racing heart.

Somehow you hadn’t even noticed Mary had returned and was already sweeping up the glass.

“You okay now?” John asked, watching you carefully.

“My- my foot…”

“I know. I’m gonna go grab somethin’ to fix you up. Just sit right here, alright?” He stood from the edge of your bed. “Just keep breathing.”

Doing as he said, you watched as he ducked out and into the bathroom across the hall. In no time at all, he returned with a first aid kit and returned to his spot on the edge of your bed.

“Let me see it.” He gave his lap a pat.

Lifting your leg, you set it on his thigh and watched as he got to work. First he cleaned the cut, which had you hissing and flinching in pain. He was gentle and patient, though, and you were very grateful.

Mary finished cleaning up before long and came over to hold your hand as he husband wrapped a bandage around your foot. When he was done, he gave your calf a tap, prompting you to remove it from his lap.

Your eyes were drawn to a small patch of blood on the sheets. “Oh, Mary… I’m so so-”

“It’s fine, Y/N,” she assured you before you could even finish the sentence. “Are _you_ fine, though?” she asked as she and John watched you carefully. “I know I said you don’t have to open up, but we’re concerned now, dear.”

Eyes darting between the two of them, you felt your throat clench. “I… I had a nightmare.”

God, you felt awkward. Like a nuisance. Like a child running to their parents after having a bad dream… not that you knew what that felt like.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mary prompted.

You were instantly shaking your head. “No.”

They shared a look that made you feel even more uneasy, but when they turned back to you, they didn’t press for answers.

“Okay, just… try to get a good night’s sleep.” Mary offered the most motherly smile you’d ever been witness to.

John grabbed the first aid kit and rose from the bed. “You need anything, anything at all, and you call for us. Okay, Y/N?”

Not trusting your voice, you nodded.

They started for the door then, but as Mary reached for the light, she turned back to you. The look in her eyes was of pure concern, and it broke your heart. It had been a long time since someone had looked at you that way… like they cared enough to feel for you.

Flicking the light off, she then left the room, closing the door behind her.

Settling back into bed, you flinched as you knocked your foot. Doing your best not to hurt yourself again, you shifted onto your back and pulled the blankets up as you turned to the window and looked up at the night sky.

You knew there was no way you were getting back to sleep.

**Bamby**


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst… and fluff!!
> 
> Bamby

The sun hadn’t even touched the horizon before your phone buzzed. You were sitting up, looking out your window, watching the stars. It took a few moments before you reached for your phone to check the message.

Sam was up, and almost ready to head out. He message was him asking if you were ready, too.

Your eyes fell to your bandaged foot and your heart sunk. As much as you said you wanted to go with him, there was no way you could now. If you did you’d just get in the way. You’d be a burden, a nuisance, a distractions. Things would be better if you just stayed in bed all day.

Filled with regret, you sent him a message back telling him to go without you. Your eyes scanned the few words over and over before you finally sent it through and put your phone away.

Moments passed and you felt your eyes well with tears. You’d been looking forward to spending the day with Sam, it was a shame you had to be so clumsy. You were a mess…

The sound of a door creeping open and boots on the floor boards made your back go rigid. You listened, ears pricked as your eyes turned to your bedroom door. Before long, there was a light tap on the wood.

“Y… yeah?”

A second passed before the door slowly opened and someone stepped inside, closing the door behind them. “Hey…”

“Sam?” You frowned, squinting your eyes to try and get a better look of him in the dark. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you’re okay.” The shadow-y blob that was him shrugged. “I’m gonna turn on the light, okay?”

Opening you mouth to protest, you barely managed a squeak before the light was flicked on and you were suddenly blinded by the warm glow.

His eyes landed on you first… and then your bangade… and then the blood.

“What the…” Walking further into the room, he took in the sight of you and the tiny bit of dried blood on the sheets and blankets. “What happened? Are you okay?” He took a seat at the end of the bed and reached for your foot.

Flinching back, you whimpered lightly- you didn’t miss the way he clenched his jaw ever so slightly as his eyes looked away. “There was an accident… your parents helped me. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” he argued.

“I… I will be,” you assured him. “But I can’t go with you, ‘cause of this.” You gestured to your foot. “Sorry. I was actually really looking forward to spending the day with you.”

Staring at your bandage, he sat there and thought for a moment before shrugging. “Who said you can’t come with me?”

“Sam… I’ll just get in the way.”

“No you won’t.” Rising from the bed, he offered you his hand. “I’ll set you up in the shop so you can sit and chill, and we’ll talk while I work. You won’t get in my way, I promise, now come on.”

Looking from him to his hand, you sighed, “I can’t walk. It hurts too much.”

“Then I’ll carry you,” he told you, as if it were honestly that simple.

The short laugh that slipped from your lips died as you noticed the look on his face. “Oh, wait, you’re being serious.”

“Deadly.”

Cheeks flushing at the intense and serious look in his eyes, you felt yourself shudder ever so slightly. “I… I need to get dressed.”

“Need me to grab your clothes?”

“Yes please.”

Turning to the chest of drawers, he followed your directions as you told him what to pull out. When it came to a bra, you felt yourself die with embarrassment, but he gave no reaction- which disheartened that hormonal part inside of you.

“I’ll be right outside.” He gestured over his shoulder to the door. “Call me when you’re done.”

Giving a tentative nod, you watched as he backed away and slipped out of your room. Once alone, you moved as quickly but carefully as possible. Stripping your pyjamas, you tugged on your underwear, jeans, top and sweater. Getting your shoes on, however, was a two man job.

“Sam.”

A moment later, your door peeked open again. “Did you call me?”

“Yeah.”

The door opened as he stepped back inside and spotted your socks sitting on the bed. “Hold on.” Turning to the wardrobe, he reached up and grabbed a box from the top shelf. You watched as he moved to set the box on the dresser. “This use to be my room,” he explained, “so a lot of my old stuff is in here.” Reaching into the box, he pulled out a pair of boots. “They’ll be a bit big, but that’ll probably prevent some pain.”

Biting your lip, leaning back on your hands, you couldn’t take your eyes off him as he knelt on the floor in front of you. Grabbing the socks from the bed, he carefully slipped them onto your feet, making sure not to hurt you in the process.

When you whimpered in anticipation of pain, he reached up and gave your calf a light squeeze. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he promised.

The boots were slipped onto your feet and put into place. He rested them on his thigh carefully so he could tie the laces and secure them as much as possible.

“Okay, and we’re done.” He smiled up at you. “Ready?”

“What if I’m too heavy?”

Chuckling lightly, he got to his feet. “Trust me, you’re not.”

To prove his point, he reached down and looped am arm under yours, while slipping his other under your knees, before lifting you off the bed. He barely huffed as he raised you, holding you against his chest.

“See. Light as a feather.” His eyes crinkled ever so slightly as he continued to smile to you. “But if you feel a little scared… you can wrap your arms around my neck.”

With flushed cheeks, you did exactly that. The movement caused you to snuggle into his chest ever so slightly but neither of you seemed to mind. In fact you felt safe in his arms, surrounded by his warmth and the slight pine scent clinging to him.

Keeping a strong hold on you, Sam started out of your room and walked through the house. No one else was around, it was just the two of you as he made his way to the truck outside. The chilly air had you both pulling each other closer subconsciously, and while neither of you commented the closer proximity made you both smile a little wider.

Reaching the truck, Sam waited for you to reach out and open the door before he set you inside. “Scoot over.”

Doing as he said, you moved along the bench seat until you were on the opposite side and not behind the wheel. Once you were out of the way he pulled himself up and slammed the door behind him. It was somehow colder in the truck than it was outside.

“Hey… come here.” He gestured for you to move a little closer. “I won’t bite.”

Nervously, you moved back along the seat again until you were next to him. He reached over and started the engine before flicking the heat on, and then started to back out of the driveway.

“Might take a while to warm up in here… you can lean on me until then, I’m like a heater,” he offered.

 _Do it._ Do _it!_ That hormonal side of you begged.

Convincing yourself that doing it didn’t mean anything, you decided to lean over into Sam’s side. His arm came around to wrap around your waist, holding you closer to get you both warm.

There were nerves, obviously. You were waiting to screw something up, or for something bad to happen. But it never came. The drive went smoothly and you found yourself warming up quickly. Even after the heat spread through the car, though, you remained by his side, encouraged by his arm as it stayed wrapped around you.

**Bamby**


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst. Fluff.  
> Bamby

Sam hadn’t even asked if you were okay before he got out of the truck and went around to carry you out. It was as if he knew you’d insist you were suddenly fine, even though you both knew you weren’t.

Having him carry you was both odd, and comforting. You hated feeling like a burden, but being close to him felt… right?

That was another oddity. The fact you felt so comfortable with this strange person. You thought and felt things you hadn’t felt in far too long. Rare emotions bubbled up, and his actions only encouraged them.

All the Winchesters- save Dean- had been welcoming and amazing. Letting you stay with them, helping you out, not pressing for information when you were clearly falling apart. They were angels, honestly.

Inside the garage, Sam set you on a spinny chair by the car he was working on. He tried to explain why he wasn’t working on yours, but you stopped him before he could get too flustered.

“I understand, Sam,” you assured him. “I don’t get special treatment. The people who were here before me should get served before me. I can wait.”

Pulling back from the hood he’d been hunched over, he gave you a look you couldn’t quite read. “Can you?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you wait?” he elaborated. “I get the feeling your sitting on the edge of your seat, ready to get out of here.”

Your gaze fell to the ground. “It’s nothing personal, Sam. Things are just better for everyone if I don’t stick around in one place for too long.”

“You’re running.” When you didn’t deny or confirm, he nodded. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to tell me anything, Y/N, but I want you to know that you can. You can trust me.”

Giving you a small smile, he turned back to the car and got to work.

Watching him, you couldn’t help but ponder the thought. In all your life you’d trust a total of two people… and both were gone now. Anyone else you tried to let in either hurt you, or got hurt themselves. You were quick to realise that relationships, no matter their nature, were dangerous.

But while you didn’t want to confess anything to Sam, you felt like you owed him. For everything he and his family were doing, you felt like you owed them some kind of explanation.

“I haven’t trusted anyone in years.”

He paused, waiting a moment before he looked over at you as you went on.

“I don’t let people in, Sam… even if I wanted to, I don’t know how anymore.”

Giving it a though, he pulled back from the hood once more and turned to lean on the car. “Would you be okay telling me about your nightmare?”

Your throat tightened and eyes went wide. “I-I… I don’t know. I don’t think… I don’t think I can do that.”

“Okay.” He nodded, understanding and hoping you didn’t think he was pressuring you. “How about… why don’t you tell me about your family? You could start by telling me about your parents?” he suggested.

Everything inside you sank. “I… I don’t have parents.”

He grew tense as his eyes went wide. “Gosh, Y/N, I’m sorry-”

“I have nightmares about them. About that day.” you started, cutting him off. “I was barely five. There was a storm, and I was scared. My mum was trying to distract me while dad drove, but she distracted him, too… he lost control of the car.” Your gaze dropped to the floor. “I don’t remember anything from before that night. I just remember my mum smiling and my dad laughing… and then everyone was screaming, and I hurt all over.”

“Shit.” Pushing off the car, Sam stepped over and crouched down in front of you. “Y/N… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t mean I can’t feel bad.”

You smiled a little then. “You’re a nice guy, Sam. I don’t know why you decided to help someone like me out, but I am grateful.”

The way he looked at you then made your heart swell, but neither of you said a word. He gave it a moment longer before standing up and getting back to work.

Staying where you were, you watched as he moved about. Seeing him leaning into the engine and work away, it was entrancing. The way he moved, you could tell he’d been doing this for a very long time. This wasn’t just a job to Sam, it was his life.

For a moment, you wondered what it would be like to be as happy as Sam appeared. But you didn’t let yourself dwell on the thought for too long. Dreaming about those kinds of things never worked out well for you.

* * *

“I can walk on my own just fine Sam, really,” you insisted as he helped you out of the truck.

He huffed, clearly disagreeing. “I’m not letting you go, Y/N. I don’t want you hurting yourself any further.”

The day had been long, but was finally over. Sam had worked away, doing his thing, and you’d watched. You would have thought it would be boring to watch someone fix cars, but you couldn’t take your eyes off Sam. There was something about the way he moved.

After the long day, Sam suggested you both go out and get something to eat. Your stomach had grumbled in response before you could utter a word.

That’s how you ended up here, outside Charlie’s diner.

While Sam was sticking close, keep a hand on your back just in case you stumbled, you’d at least gotten him to stop carrying you. Admittedly, you’d been a little disappointed in yourself when you suggested he let you walk. Apparently you didn’t want to be a burden, but you also didn’t want to let him go.

Entering the diner, you let Sam lead you over to a booth. The two of you sat opposite each other and barely had to wait two seconds before Charlie came over.

“Hey! Sam, Y/N!” She beamed. “Was hoping I’d see you again,” she told you.

You couldn’t keep the surprise from your face or voice. “Really?”

“Uh, duh. You seem like a cool chick, and I like cool chicks.” She shrugged. Sam cleared his throat, shifting in his seat, catching the girl’s attention. “Ah, right, you’re here for food, right?”

“Yeah, Charlie, we’re here for food.” He chuckled, amused.

“Okie dokie, what can I get you?” she asked, pulling out a notepad and pen.

“Y/N?” Sam looked to you.

“Oh, um…” Glancing down at the menu, you rattled off a couple of items, “I’m good with a vanilla shake and some fries, please.”

“Make a large fries, and I’ll have a strawberry shake.”

Charlie’s jaw dropped. “Sam Winchester is ordering a shake and fries? Call the health-nut police! We’ve got us a bailer!”

Rolling his eyes, he slid the menus across the table to her. “I’m allowed to indulge every once in a while, Charlie.”

“More like once in a lifetime,” she countered, taking the menus.

“I can take my order back if that’ll make you feel better.”

“Nope!” She snapped her notepad shut. “No take backsies, Winchester.” Grinning widely, she spun on her heels and walked away.

You watched, a little stunned. “She’s a character, isn’t she?”

Sam chuckled, nodding as he reached ofer to fiddle with the salt shaker on the table. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“You two suit each other,” you noted without thought.

He froze. “Wait… what?”

Shifting a little uncomfortable, you shrugged. “You and Charlie. You make a cute couple.”

“You think…” He stopped himself, watching you dumbfounded. “Charlie and I aren’t a thing, Y/N.”

“You’re not? I just… I thought, because of the way she spoke about you, and the banter, and I just assumed. Well, I mean, she’s great and you’re incredible, so it makes sense that two amazing people get together,” you tried to explain.

He laughed under his breath. “Charlie is gay, Y/N.”

Your eyes went wide. “Oh…”

“In fact, she was flirting with you just then.”

“She was?”

“Yes.” He laughed a little harder, nodding.

“Wow…” Turning back, you watched as she moved about behind the counter. “But why?”

“I can think of a few reasons.”

At the sound of Sam’s words, your head snapped in his direction. You watched him as he watched you, fiddling with the salt shaker again. Neither of you said a word as your eyes stayed locked. It was as if you were challenging each other.

While you wanted to know what Sam mean, you also doubted you could handle it. Hell, you doubted you understood him properly anyway- why would a guy like him be interested in a guy like you?

He seemed to be able to sense your hesitation and doubt. Part of him wanted to ease your mind, but he wondered if saying anymore would pressure you too much. The last thing he wanted was to scare you off.

You were both at a stalemate.

**Bamby**


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Check out the scent Sam from @scentsfromthebunker for a next-level fanfic experience!! Thank @saxxxology’s insistence for the fluff. Also, thank you @sculptorofbeginnings for looking the chapter over :):)
> 
> Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Tears.
> 
> Bamby
> 
> (All blogs found on tumblr)

The drive back to the Winchesters’ was a little awkward- for you, at least. You could feel your cheeks warm and flush as you avoided looking at Sam. At the same time, you knew he was glancing over at you every chance he got.

You were by no means uncomfortable, more just shy. It had been awhile since you’d found yourself in this position. On the cusp of flirting.

So far you and Sam had been simple. It had been all about fixing your car and helping you out. Gradually, however, you’d built this kind of friendship of sorts, that was still evolving apparently. You had no idea what it would become, but you were surprised to find yourself excited.

It was rare for you to allow yourself indulgences. Relationships were a big deal for you. Things rarely worked out, and people often got hurt. It scared you to think something could happen to Sam, but that didn’t stop a spark from growing inside you.

To be honest, if you had the choice, you’d squash that spark and let it wither. You didn’t particularly want anything out of whatever the two of you had made. Eventually you would be moving on, you  _ had _ to, and if you got close to anyone beforehand that would just make the inevitable goodbyes harder.

Arriving back at the Winchesters’, Sam parked out front, where the truck had been in the morning. Then he was right there again, helping you out of the car and walking by your side, making sure you were okay as he led you into the house.

The place was eerily empty.

“Mum and Dad are probably out… they do date nights on weekends,” Sam explained. “And Dean is either in the trailer or at the bar. Either way, he’s not here and that’s good.”

“It is?” you asked as you hobbled over to the couch, with Sam right behind you.

He shrugged as you took a seat. “He’s been an ass to you. I’d rather you didn’t have to deal with him if he’s gonna be like that,” he noted. Looking around a little awkwardly, he gestured to the TV. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“You don’t have to stick around, Sam. I don’t want to keep you.”

“Nah.” He shook his head, moving to the shelves of DVDs his parents’ owned. “I honestly don’t have anything to do, and I wouldn’t mind keeping you company.” He smiled over his shoulder at you before turning back to the rows of movies. “What genre are you into?”

“Anything that won’t make me cry. And no action. No death. Nothing scary. And definitely not a Western… I hate Westerns.” Sure, you were being a little picky, but you knew your triggers. You knew what to avoid for your own wellbeing.

“Don’t let Dean hear you saying that… he’ll never like you if he knows you hate Westerns.”

“He a big fan?”

“Biggest.” Skimming the shelves, he paused- though you couldn’t see what he’d found. “How about  _ 10 Things I Hate About You _ ?”

You balked. “A rom-com?”

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugged. “It’s a classic. Comedy, drama, romance. No one dies, there’s no action, the only scary thing in it is the pregnancy suit the dad makes his daughter wear.”

Lips spreading into a wide smile, you chuckled.

Turning to look at you over his shoulder, Sam gave you a wink. “I know a good movie when I see one.”

“Mmm… okay.” You nodded. “ _ 10 Things I Hate About You _ it is.”

“Perfect!” Sliding the DVD out of its place, he stepped up to the TV and got everything sorted. As the trailers started, he spun on his heels. “Okay, so we thinking popcorn? I think there’s some choc chip cookies in the pantry. Or do we want potato chips?”

“All of the above.” You beamed. “If we’re gonna do this, might as well go all out.”

“I like that.” He gave a sharp nod, heading for the kitchen.

You stayed where you were, seated on the couch while half focusing on the trailers and half focusing on Sam. How could you not be distracted by him? He was gorgeous, and nothing but kind. The guy didn’t have a mean bone in him, and that was a big weakness for you. Kindness was hard to come by- until you tripped into this little town, anyway- so, naturally, when it crossed your path you were tempted to enjoy it while it lasted.

But that meant getting close, and as noted before… that was not a good idea.

Sam came back with arms full of food that he set on the coffee table before scooting the table closer. Taking a seat beside you, he leaned back against the couch and gestured for you to come closer. You hesitated.

“I’m not up to no good. I promise. I just… I thought that if you moved closer and leaned on me, you’d have more room to put your foot up. Take the pressure of it.” He could see you were still unsure. “You don’t have to. You can lean the other way and put your leg up on the couch between us if it makes you feel better. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Watching him carefully, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, you made your mind up.

Shifting on the couch, you leaned against his shoulder, on a slight angle, and put your leg up.

Behind you he relaxed, as if he’d been tense waiting to see what you might do. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you got the feeling he was surprised.

…

As the movie went on, you found yourself chuckling at some of the jokes right along with Sam. You were actually surprised he was enjoying it as much as he was. You had assumed he put the movie on for your sake, like maybe he felt like you needed some time to wind down. But here he was, laughing at the teen drama and angst unfolding before your eyes.

When the movie was about two thirds of the way done, you grew a little uncomfortable. Without overthinking it, you turned a little more so you could lean your head against Sam’s shoulder, and your bent knees on his thighs. He tensed again, clearly shocked by your new position, but within a beat he relaxed.

The movie continued to progress, and with only twenty minutes to go, and the prom starting, you grew a little bold. Reaching up behind you, you gently tugged on Sam’s wrist and brought his arm down to rest on your shoulders.

His head turned to you, watching with parted lips and wide eyes. You simply smiled up at him, feeling your cheeks warm. Playing it cool, you went back to the movie.

Another five or so minutes passed before Sam moved to set his other hand on your knee. You froze a little at the touch, wondering if it was a step too far, but you couldn’t deny how nice it felt. How nice he felt.

When it got to the end of the movie, where Kat and Patrick finally reconciled and kissed, your eyes began to blur as you started sniffling.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Sam turned and reached up to cup your cheek. Catching your gaze he looked at you with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you laughed through the tears. “It’s just… happy endings always get me.” Pulling away, you looked down at your lap. “It’s stupid. I’m stupid. I know.”

Catching you before you could look away completely, he tilted your face back up so his eyes could lock onto yours once more. “No it’s not stupid. It’s sweet.  _ You’re _ sweet.” Watching you, his eyes flickered down to your lips for the briefest of moments. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

You gasped lightly, shocked at the question. Not just because he wanted to kiss you… but because he was kind enough to ask for your permission.

Unable to find your words, you gave a gentle nod.

Slowly, allowing you the time to change your mind, he leaned in. When his lips pressed against yours, you found yourself floating.

It wasn’t deep, or rushed. It was nothing more than a sweet kiss. The perfect push on your limits. Enough so you were comfortable, but also teetering on the edge of too much. It reassured you that you could trust Sam.

Despite how good you felt, you couldn’t stop the tears from escaping your eyes and rolling down your cheek.

Pulling back, Sam caught a tear with his thumb and looked at it with guilt. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not you,” you assured him, bringing your hand up to rest on his as he continued to caress your cheek. “It’s just… I don’t want to hurt you, Sam.”

His lips pulled up into a smile. “Then don’t.”

Leaning in, he pressed his lips against yours once more. This kiss was gentler somehow, and shorter. It barely lasted a couple of seconds before he was pulling back and slipping off the couch.

“So, what should we watch next?”

**Bamby**


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Fluff (don’t get too comfortable, though).
> 
> Bamby

You and Sam ended up watching three and a half movies before the front door opened. Mary and John walked in, hand in hand and smiles on their faces. When they turned to see you and their son snuggled on the couch, it was safe to say they were surprised.

Though not as surprised as you’d expected.

John’s face split in a wide grin. “‘Bout time, boy.” He gave Sam a short nod before heading down the hall to his bedroom.

Mary rolled her eyes at her husband before smiling down at you. “Ignore him, sweetie. Just go back to your movie.” Turning on her heels, she chased after her husband, closing the door behind her.

Alone with Sam again, you suddenly felt a little uncomfortable.

“Hey.” He gave your knee a squeeze, prompting you to turn to look up at him. “You don’t have to worry about them. They like you. I like you. The whole town likes you,” he chuckled lightly. “But if this is too weird, now… you don’t have to pretend to like it for my sake. You’re safe here, Y/N. Whenever things get too much, say the word, I won’t be offended.”

It had been a long time since someone had been so understanding and so willing to be patient with you.

“Sam?”

“Mmm?”

“Can you kiss me again?”

Lips turning up into a smile, he nodded. “Anytime.” Reaching up to cup your face, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.

* * *

Considering John and Mary had gone out for dinner, you and Sam decided to call Charlie’s and order a pizza. It didn’t take long before the delivery guy showed up- a young kid named Kevin who was apparently on track to being accepted in some ivy league college.

“You really do know everyone in town, don’t you?”

Sam shrugged as he took a big bite out of his slice of chicken and veggie pizza. “When you’ve lived with these people your whole life, it’s kinda hard not to know everyone,” he noted, mouth full of food. “Besides, I use to tutor Kev.”

“You tutored a future ivy league student?”

“Well, I mean… I was accepted into Stanford, so yeah.”

You balked. “Wait… hold on… you were… you were what?”

Chuckling, he looked up from his slice of pizza and caught your gaze. “I’m smarter than I look.”

_Brains, brawns and beauty? Lock this guy down while you still have a chance!_

Ignoring that hormonal part of your brain, you shook your head at Sam. “That’s not what I mean. I just… if you were accepted into Stanford, why are you still… here?”

“You mean why did I chose getting my hands dirty every day over a big paycheck?” he asked, and after a pause you nodded. “Because this is my family. This is my home. The first time my dad let me help him fix up a car in the garage, I was about five or six. He put this wooden crate by the car and set me on top of it so I could see into the hood.” His smile grew as he recalled the memory. “Dean had already started a few small things on his own, so he came over to help me help dad. I remember Dean giving me his own spanner so I wouldn’t feel left out.

“I didn’t do much, obviously, but Dad was patient. He would put things out, and then later he would ask me what they were to see if I could remember. Whenever I would stumble, Dean would give me hints. Before the end of that day I could map out the whole engine without a single mistake.”

The way he spoke made your heart swell. The happiness in his eyes made you smile back at him.

“I know I’m smart enough to become something like a lawyer, or a doctor, or whatever. But I’m happy here,” he explained. “This is my home.”

Looking away, you let your gaze dropped to the carpet of the living room where the two of you sat. You felt a little bittersweet now that Sam was finished. While it was lovely to hear his story, you couldn’t help but feel a little envious over the fact he had a place to call home.

The front door opened again, then. This time, however, it was Dean who walked around the corner and froze at the sight of you and his brother.

Not saying a word, he rolled his eyes and focused on Sam. “Mum and Dad?”

“Bedroom.”

“Thanks.”

With that, Dean headed down the hall towards his parents’ room.

Shaking his head, Sam sighed before pulling himself up to his feet. You looked up at him as he reached his hand out. Smiling shyling, you took the hand and let him pull you to his feet, and tug you a little closer.

“You wanna come to work with me again tomorrow?”

“Early morning again?”

“I’m an early-bird kinda person.”

Opening your mouth, you were about to answer when you absentmindedly put a little too much pressure on your foot and caused yourself to hiss in pain.

“Maybe I should stay back,” you suggested.

“If that’s what you want, then that’s okay. But, hey,” grabbing your chin gently, he tilted your head up so he could meet your gaze, “don’t think for one second that’ll slow me down. If I have to carry you everywhere, I will. Hell… I’d like it.” He grinned.

Cheeks flushing with heat, you found yourself lost for words.

“Can I help you to your room?” he asked so sweetly, as if he hadn’t just knocked the wind right out of your lungs.

Still fumbling for a response, you simply nodded.

You didn’t get the chance to stop him before he was lifting you into his arms.

“Sam!” you shrieked, clutching at his jacket for dear life.

Chuckling, he started down the hall. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna drop you.”

Pressing yourself against him, you held on tightly, praying your ass wouldn’t meet the ground.

As he reached your bedroom, he fumbled a little but managed to open the door. Just as he was about to step inside, Dean left the bathroom across the hall.

“Seriously?”

“Shut up, Dean.” Sam stepped into the room and turned to give his glaring brother a indignant look. Then, without another word, he kicked the door shut.

Alone… in the bedroom… with the door shut… in Sam’s arms… you suddenly found it a little hard to breathe.

Not noticing the way you tensed a little more, Sam headed over to your bed and gently set you down. You expected him to lean in and make another move, you were waiting for it, but instead… he pulled back.

“I’ll text you when I’m ready in the morning, okay?” He smiled down at you.

You quickly nodded your answer.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he went to turn but for some reason didn’t actually move.

“Sam… you okay?”

“I know I look like an idiot, but I don’t wanna regret not asking… but I also don’t wanna push my luck…”

“Sam?”

“Can I…” Taking a deep breath, he turned to catch your eye as he tried again, “Can I kiss you goodnight?”

“Okay.”

Stepping in closer, he leaned in to kiss you again.

This kiss was deeper right away. You felt yourself sucking in a shocked breath as his hands came up to cradle your face. Tilting your head back, he leaned in more until you were almost falling into the mattress. He didn’t let you fall, however. His grasp was strong and sure, keeping you upright as his lips kissed the sense out of you.

Moaning, you brought your own hand up to the back of his head and carded your fingers through his hair. He groaned as you gave the strands a light tug.

Pulling back, he took a deep breath as he pressed his forehead to yours. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” you whispered against his lips.

Letting go of your face, he stepped away and began to backup towards the door. He held your gaze the entire time, not hiding the flush in his face or the way he licked his lips. Then, once he was out in the hall, he closed the door, leaving you to finally fall back into the mattress as your mind recalled the way his lips felt against yours over, and over, and over…

**Bamby**


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Fluff. Angst.
> 
> Bamby

The next morning, you and Sam headed off to the garage like you said you would, and he carried you like he said he would.

You found you enjoyed sitting on one of the crates and watching him work. The way he worked out each problem in his head, the focus on his face, it was so mesmerising. Then when he actually got to work? Seeing him lean into the engine and work away was… well… let’s just say the hormonal part of your brain was drooling.

“Hungry?” Sam asked after about an hour.

All the two of you had for breakfast was a banana each, a coffee for him and a hot chocolate for you. So yeah, you were hungry.

“What do you have in mind?”

Chuckling lightly, he shook his head as he wiped his hands on a dirty rag. “That’s a dangerous question.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.” Tossing the rag onto a nearby bench, he stepped over to you. “I was thinking… Charlie’s?”

“Is she even open this early?” you countered.

“No, but she’ll be there. And she’ll let us in,” he assured you, reaching out for you.

Taking his hand and letting him pull you to your feet, you raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “You sound pretty sure about that.”

“I know she will, because she’s got a crush on you,” he noted as he lifted you up into his arms.

…

Sure enough, Charlie was more than happy to let you and Sam into the diner before it was even open. Right away, she set the two of you up with a vanilla and strawberry milkshake, and then got to work on Sam’s egg white omelette and your pancakes.

“So… Dean is coming in to work today,” Sam told you as you went to take a sip of your milkshake.

Pausing halfway to the glass, you looked up to catch his gaze. “He is?”

Nodding, he watched you carefully as he picked up a fry. “Thought you might appreciate the warning.” When your gaze dropped to your drink, and your mouth fell shut, Sam put the fry back and leaned in closer. “Hey. Talk to me.”

“Your brother hates me, Sam.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“He’s mean to me,” you reminded him.

“Dean… is complicated.”

“I’m a big girl, Sam. If someone doesn’t like me, if they’re mean, I know how to deal with it. But… You and I are… you know…”

“Kissing like teenagers?” he filled in for you.

The corner of your lips pulled up into an amused smirk as you nodded. “Yeah. That. And that can become something more.” Eyes going wide, you quickly backtracked, “Not that you want that. Maybe you’re happy with just this, the kissing, and that’s okay. I like it. And it’s safe. I don’t want you to think-”

“I want more.” Your mouth snapped shut and eyes remained wide at his admission. Realising what he said and the implications, he added, “I want more, but I don’t want to rush you. I get it. I get that you need time to adjust, and to think, and to do whatever you need to feel comfortable. But I want more.”

His words gave you pause. Where you should have been flattered and flustered at the prospect of him wanting more of you, something else occured to you… more meant staying.

Before meeting Sam, you were running.

That ‘more’ Sam wanted meant forgetting why you were running. It meant letting your fears go and trusting him. It meant trusting yourself. Could you really do that? After everything you’d ever been through and all you’d lost, could you trust yourself to be with this sweet stranger who actually wanted you?

Sam gave your hand a squeeze, pulling you back to him. “You okay?”

“I don’t know.”

…

Back at the garage, things were tense. First there was Dean, who you were certain didn’t like you- and had shown no proof that you were wrong. Then there was John, who you felt awkward around considering he’d caught you and Sam making out. Lastly, there was Sam…

Since answering his question at the diner without really answering it, neither of you had really said much. There was small, idly chit chat, but all conversation regarding the two of you had stopped.

Part of you hoped it was just due to your unease… but another part wondered if you’d upset Sam.

He’d admitted a lot to you, and you’d given nothing in return. There was nothing for you to give, though, because you really had no idea what was going on, around and inside you. Everything was suddenly conflicting. Your need to protect those around you meant you had to continue running. But your desire to have that something more Sam had mentioned was only just now blossoming, and the feelings that came with it were quickly becoming addictive.

Keeping Sam away from you would keep him safe. Leaving Sam would hurt you more than you were sure you could handle. Plus… you weren’t even sure he’d let you go so easily.

Already he’d made it clear that he cared. Sam didn’t have to let you stay at his place that first night. He didn’t have to offer to take care of your car. He didn’t have to carry you because of your injured foot. Everything he’d done since meeting you had shown care, understanding, patience... 

Sam had been nothing less than an angel, and now you were left with the decision to either stay with him and see if what was growing between you would only get better… or leave and break both your hearts.

“Dad wants me to go with you to get lunch.”

Your head snapped up to look at Dean as he stood in front of you. “What?”

He rolled his eyes. “Lunch. You. Me. Get.” Lifting his hand, he jangled a set of keys. “I’m leaving now, if you don’t get in the car then it’s not my fault you didn’t do as he wanted.”

Before you could reply, he turned to leave. Obviously not wanting to disappoint John- and also grateful for the distraction, even though it meant spending time with Dean- you got to your feet to follow.

Dean glanced back as you started to walk, and quickly stopped, frowning as he watched you limp slightly. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Stood in glass,” you answered automatically while focussing on taking each step carefully to minimise pain.

He cocked an eyebrow at you “When did that happen?”

“The other night.”

There was a pause as he watched you before glancing over at his brother and father who were busy at work. You had no idea what might’ve gone through his head in that moment, but whatever it was had him sighing and walking towards you.

He wrapped his arm around your waist. “Put your arm over my shoulder.”

“What?”

“Put your arm over my shoulder,” he repeated. “I’m helping you to the car.”

Shock left you speechless as you did what he said. Right away, you felt the pressure from your foot lessen as Dean helped take some of your weight. What surprised you even more was the fact he didn’t complain, or even comment, the whole way to the impala waiting out front.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you mumbled as he helped you to the passenger side door before opening it for you.

“Yeah, well, last thing I need is Sammy biting my head off ‘cause I was treating his girl like crap,” he countered as you slid into the car.

“ _ His _ girl?”

“You saying you’re not his girl? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure he’s had his tongue in your mouth and when it comes to Sammy, that means something.” Closing the door, Dean moved around the get into his side. “Plus, I see the way you two look at each other. It’s gross.”

“And that means something, too?”

“If you were a nobody fling I wouldn’t give a shit. So, yeah, it all means something.”

**Bamby**


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Explicit language. Angst. Like… angst. Mentions of past abuse (child abuse). Mentions of death. Yeah… as Dean put it once… other shoe.  
> Bamby

The drive to Charlie’s was tense. You’d sat there trying to think of something to say, but before anything came to mind Dean had already pulled in front of the cafe. With a quick order to stay put, her left you sitting there in the Impala. Sighing, you dropped your head back against the seat as you twiddled your thumbs and over thought the situation.

Dean was important to Sam, and despite your fears and unease, Sam was quickly becoming someone important to you. So in the end, you felt the need to get on Dean’s good side.

It wouldn’t change things with you, though. Whether Dean liked you or not, you were doubtful it would help with your dilemma. Your likeability wouldn’t affect the fact that you were hovering on your fight or flight instincts. Part of you desperately wanted to get out while you still could… but then there was the other part. The desperate part. The part that had been on the run and lonely for far too long.

Since your car had broken down and Sam had picked you up, things had been nice- except for the part where you stood on glass. His family- for the most part- were welcoming, and so was the rest of the town. The place was so inviting that you really were tempted to find your own little corner and make the town your new home.

But even though the temptation was there, it was nowhere near as strong as your fear.

The car drivers side door opened before the car shifted under Dean’s weight as he got back in. “Charlie said we gotta wait. She’s backed up with orders,” he explained without looking at you. When you didn’t say anything, he grumbled, “An ex is inside and I thought it would be less awkward in here… but I’m starting to wonder.”

“It doesn’t have to be awkward,” you assured him.

“You’re as quiet as a mouse,” he countered.

“Because every time I talk you shut me down, or roll your eyes.” You watched him with a pointed look. “Pretty hard to make conversation with someone who hates you.”

Shifting on the spot, he curled his hands into fists against his knees before relaxing them. “I don’t hate you.”

“Coulda fooled me.” Turning your back on him, you looked out your own window.

Despite the fact Sam had insisted that Dean didn’t hate you, the way his brother treated you kinda contradicted him. From the moment you’d met Dean, it was like he’d wanted you gone. You honestly felt like he’d hated you from the moment he saw you sitting on the fold-out couch.

“This place, the town… it’s small,” he started. “Everyone knows everyone. I mean…” He paused a moment before gesturing to a lady walking along the path in front of the car. “You see that old lady there? That’s Mrs Sanders. A kooky lady who thinks she can talk to angels.”

Turning back in your seat, you watched him as he focused on what was happening outside of the car.

“And that kid?” He pointed to a little boy hopping along to miss the cracks on the path. “That’s Jack Kline, my best friends’ cousin. Curious little shit,” he mumbled under his breath as a small smile spread across his face. Then he continued searching. “And the couple sitting in the corner booth by the window?”

You turned to look at the diner and spotted said couple.

“Jesse and Cesar. Awesome dudes. Got engaged two months ago.” Dean scanned the area before nodding to some girls crossing the street. “Kaia, Patience, and Claire. They’re three of the sheriff's adopted kids.”

Watching Dean, you realised here wasn’t a single person in sight that he didn’t know. Everyone really did know everyone.

“I don’t hate you,” he noted, turning to catch your gaze. “I just don’t know you. There’s a difference. And because I don’t know you, I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t blame you, Dean. I get i-”

“No you don’t,” he argued as he leaned back in his seat. “I came home, hungover, and found this chick in my home. Of course I’m gonna be suspicious and defensive. But then I watched her get closer to my baby brother. I watched my parents bend over backwards for her. I watched the whole damn town welcome her with open arms. Meanwhile, I still know nothing about her.” He returned the pointed look you’d given him earlier.

Shifting on the spot, you listened to him intently as guilt began to fall on your shoulders.

“I don’t know where she’s from, or why she was in the middle of nowhere when her car broke down. Hell, I don’t even know her last name. No one does.” He shrugged. “And no one questions her, or her intentions, ‘cause she  _ seems _ like this damsel in distress, and they all lap that shit up.”

Chewing on your lip, you found yourself lost for words. While you knew you didn’t have any bad intentions, that it was all a coincidence, and that you’ve been just as surprised with how welcoming everyone else has been, you didn’t know how to reassure Dean of that.

“So tell me… how am I supposed to act around a girl like that? How am I supposed to trust her?”

Dealing with conflict wasn’t a talent of yours. It was pretty obvious that you were avoidant when it came to any kind of confrontation- hence all your running- but it you were going to make any progress with Dean, you were going to have to face the music and speak.

“You could have tried,” you suggested. As soon as the words left your mouth, your eyes went wide. “I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.”

Watching you carefully, he took a moment before shaking his head. “Not like I don’t deserve it. Keep going.”

Hesitating a moment, you took a shaky breath and averted your gaze before trying again, “You judged me the instant you saw me, and it only got worse. None of this has been easy on me,” you noted, earning a scoff.

“I’ll bet my left nut that Dad’ll let Sammy work on your car for free. He won’t charge you a cent.”

Brows furrowing, you looked up to meet his gaze again. “And that’s my fault, how? I don’t control your father’s decisions. And if you, for one second, think I’ll  _ let _ him do something as stupid as that, then you’re an idiot. Which I never pegged you as. A jerk? Yes. An idiot? No.”

“Dad isn’t gonna charge you when you’d got nothing to give.”

“That’s not my fault either!” you snapped, and just like that the floodgates opened. “I didn’t have any of this!” You gestured to the town outside. “The family? The friends? The job waiting for when you were old enough to work. I had  _ nothing _ . I love my family before I started school. And then I was tossed into the system like trash. I had no one, so I moved from foster family to foster family. I was beaten, and forgotten, and abused! I was someone’s meal ticket. And whenever someone did get close to me, I lost them, too.”

Your throat began to tighten as the memories flooded your head and heart.

“I’m not talking about leaving them. Dean,  _ every _ person I’ve gotten close to has died.  _ Anyone _ who has shown a ounce of care towards me, has died. So when I got tired of hurting people, I ran. I worked a few small jobs, saved up money, and hit the road. Everything in that car is everything I owe. Everything I  _ am _ .”

Sitting there, staring at you wide eyed, Dean was frozen. For the first time since you’d met him, Dean had nothing to say.

“Now you know.” Turning away from him, crossing your arms over your chest, you thought to control the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. “Go get the food, Dean. I don’t want to keep your dad and Sam waiting.”

“I… I’m sorry,” he mumbled before slipping out of the car.

Once he was finally gone, you let the first of many tears escape as you began to drown in years of pain and loss.

**Bamby**


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst. Fluff-ish.
> 
> Bamby

When you and Dean returned to the garage, Mary was talking to John in the office while Sam continued to work away. He looked up as soon as he heard the Impala, and offered you a small smile… that dropped as soon as he saw your face.

Walking away from his work, he wiped his hand on an oil rag as he started towards the car. You expected him to head to your door, but instead he moved to Dean’s. As his brother got out of the car, Sam shoved him against the side.

“What the hell, man?!” Dean glared up at his brother.

“What did you do?”

“What are you talking about?”

“She’s been crying!” Sam snapped. “What did you do to her?!”

The office door opened then as Mary and John hurried out.

“What’s going on out here?” John called, watching his sons disapprovingly.

“Nothing. It’s all just a misunderstanding,” you assured him. “Sam… I’m okay.”

He shook his head, keeping his raging gaze on his brother. “I know you’ve been crying. I know what it looks like. I’ve seen it before. You’ve been crying.”

“Because I told Dean about my parents.” It wasn’t a complete lie… he did know you’d lost everyone.

Flinching at the reminder of what you’d gone through, Sam pulled away from his brother and turned his attention to you. The look on his face was pure guilt.

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.” Sighing, Sam rounded the car before pulling you into his arms.

You didn’t resist as he held you against his chest tightly, burying his face in your hair and breathing in deeply. The embrace was so intense, you couldn’t help but tear up all over again.

“Maybe you should take Y/N home for lunch, Sam,” John suggested. “Take the Impala.”

Nodding, Sam pulled back and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Guiding you back into the car, he made sure you were settled before closing the door and hurrying around to get in behind the wheel. Neither of you spoke as he then backed out of the yard and started down the road.

…

Rolling to a stop out the front of the Winchester home, Sam turned the ignition off with a sigh. “You told Dean.”

“He doesn’t trust me. I had to tell him something.”

“You shouldn’t have to explain yourself to him. Or anyone,” he argued.

“Sam… I’m a stranger, and while I don’t owe anyone my story, I owe you guys something. I can’t expect everyone to be so nice for free.”

“Why?” He turned to look at you, his brows furrowed. “Why can’t we be nice to you for free? Why can’t you trust that we don’t expect anything in return?”

Averting your gaze, you looked down at your hands as they sat in your lap. You felt your eyes begin to water again as you remembered how much you’d confessed to Dean, without having actually given details.

“Nice doesn’t end well for me,” you muttered.

There was a moment where neither of you spoke. Where you just stared down at your hands, as he stared at you. The tension grew as you fought not to cry, not wanting to look so pathetic in front of him.

Eventually, Sam got out of the car. You felt it shift under you as the door creaked open and shut. Then, after a few seconds, your own door creaked as he opened it for you.

“Come on.” He offered you his hand.

Taking it, you let him help you out and walk you towards the house. You waited as he unlocked the front door, keeping your eyes down cast as the same tears continued their threat of spilling over. Even after the door was unlocked and open, and Sam had your hand in his once more as he led you inside, you kept your eyes firmly glued to the ground.

He didn’t stop in the living room, or head towards the kitchen. Instead Sam turned down the hallway and took you down to the room you’d been staying in. Even though it was just the two of you in the house, he closed the door behind you for privacy, before taking you to the bed.

“Sit. Please.”

Doing as he said, you continued to watch the ground intently as you took a seat on the bed.

Crouching down on the ground in front of you, Sam took your shaking hands in his large ones. “You remember how I told you not to pretend? That you’re okay here?” You gave a tentative nod, prompting him to go on, “It’s true. You are okay here. I… I wanna be there for you. Can’t really explain it, but I’d just… I’ve felt like I need to make sure you’re okay since I saw you on that road.”

Squeezing your hands in his, he gave a sad smile as he recalled that night.

“I saw how scared you were. And I couldn’t help but think about what might’ve happened if I hadn’t been there to help you.” He shook his head. “I want you to know that I’m here for you, and I’m not gonna judge you.”

You choked on a sob as it got stuck in your throat, then.

Looking up, catching your gaze, Sam finally saw the tears in your eyes. “Hey.” Reaching up, he cupped the side of your face and ran his thumb along your cheek, catching a stray tear. “Don’t bottle it up.”

Nodding meekly, you squealed a little as you tried to control yourself. It took a few moments, but Sam was patient, waiting and watching as you did what you had to. Not once did he pressure you to hurry, not once did he push for you to give him anything.

“I… I don’t want to hurt you.”

Cracking a smile, he gave your hand a squeeze. “Everyone gets hurt.”

“I know, that’s the problem.” closing your eyes, you flinched at the memories that surfaced. “I… I’ve lost  _ everyone _ .”

“Everyone?”

Nodding, you kept your eyes shut as you opened up to him. “My parents, first. In the car crash. Then a little old lady who fostered me.” You whimpered as you recalled how you lost her, “I found her in the kitchen after school one day.”

Sam moved closer to you then, moving his hand down from your face to take your free hand again.

“And then… then…” A tear rolled down you cheek  as your throat tightened painfully. “We were in the car… and there was another accident… he didn’t make it.” Opening your eyes, you looked down at Sam through the blurriness of your tears.

“That’s why you won’t let people in. It’s why you won’t let me in,” he noted, and you nodded. “What if… what if I don’t get hurt?”

“You  _ will _ ,” you insisted. “Everyone always does.”

“Okay… say I do get hurt… shouldn’t it be my choice?” When you frowned ever so slightly, clearly confused, he went on, “I know the risk now. I know what you believe. I know what you’ve experienced… to a point. So, shouldn’t I get to choose whether I take the risk or not?”

“I don’t want to hurt anymore, Sam.”

“Aren’t you hurting yourself by running away?” he countered. “I  _ really _ like you, Y/N. And I wanna get to know you. You’re gonna be stuck in this town for a little while, and I wanna make the most of that time while we can.”

You could not believe this. Despite telling him that everyone who had ever gotten close to you had died, Sam was still trying to argue his way into convincing you to let him in.

“You don’t even know me,” you mumbled. “You’re insane, Sam.”

He cracked a little grin and shrugged. “Might not know you, but I get the feeling you’re worth it.”

**Bamby**


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry it’s been so long. With exams and being sick, I haven’t had a lot of time to write, or energy. But I’m here now!! Just managed to squeeze it in before the day ended. That does mean it hasn’t been looked over, so I am deeply sorry for any mistakes.
> 
> Warnings: Angst. And a little bit of fluff.
> 
> Bamby

Things slowed down a little after your confession to Dean and the aftermath of it all. Sam was still very determined to show you that he was interested in getting to know you, but he was patient at the same time. The next two days that passed, he was close by but left you to do what you needed.

You took the time alone to heal your foot, and think things over.

With everything you’d been through, your apprehensions were warranted. You had every right to feel the way you did. Your worry was understandable. The walls you’d built around yourself were sturdy for a reason, and no one could tell you that was wrong. No one but yourself.

Living a life on the road, running away from all and any relationships, was not healthy. You weren’t an idiot. You knew that avoiding people like the plague was going to kill you. People are social creatures, and even if you preferred to keep socialisation to a minimum, you still felt the desire to be with people. You just weren’t the one to hangout with  _ anyone _ .

Sam wasn’t just anyone.

If someone had told you a week ago that you’d be spending your time with a tall, gorgeous, smart, caring guy, you would have… well you would have kept running, but just moved a little faster while doing it. Now though, despite that voice inside your head that begged you to leave town before things turn bad, you wanted to… you actually wanted to stay. Maybe not for long, but at least for a while.

“Knock knock.”

Looking up from the window you’d been staring out of while sitting in bed, you turned to the bedroom door and spotted Mary poking her head in.

“How you going, sweetheart?” She smiled as she entered the room.

Shifting on the spot, you gave a small shrug. “I’m… I’m better.”

The brothers had blown up at the auto shop while Mary and John had been there. They’d seen the little fight. Hell, John was the one who had told Sam to take you home- which hadn’t lasted long once you’d realised everyone’s lunches were still in the car. He’d left shortly after helping you inside, and returned later that day with his family in tow. It was then that everyone sat down to get somethings on the table.

Mary and John still didn’t know everything that Dean and Sam knew- especially Sam- but they knew you had your issues. They’d known that before you’d all sat down, considering you’d woken them up in the middle of the night with your screams, but now they knew more.

Hearing that you’d lost a lot in your life, and that you’d never really had much to start with, really seemed to make things a little clearer for the Winchesters. Mary was more gentle with you- not that you thought that would be possible- and John’s patience had grown tenfold. In fact, you’d heard him talking to Dean later that evening, scolding his son for his behaviour and insisting Dean treat you better ‘or else’.

“Well, I just wanted to come in an ask…” She stood there, fiddling with her thumbs, showing the first signs of nerves around you.

When she didn’t go on, you pressed her encouragingly, “You can ask me anything, Mary. It’s okay.”

Taking a deep breath, she went on, “There’s a party, a town get together, just a small barbeque. We have one every month, and you just happened to breakdown outside our town the weekend before the party. And I don’t want to pressure you into going, because I know you don’t feel comfortable around so many new people, but I don’t want you to feel left out either. John and I talked, and it looks like your car might not be fixed as soon as we thought, so you might still be around-”

“Mary,” you cut her off, feeling uncomfortable watching her fumble, “it’s really okay.”

Nodding, she finally cut to the chase. “We’re going to a barbeque this weekend and I wanted to ask you if you’d like to join us?”

“A barbeque… with the whole town?” Anxiety shot through you in an instant.

“You don’t have to,” she assured you. “And you don’t have to answer now. I just wanted to let you know so you have time to think it over.”

Knowing she wasn’t expecting you to respond right away, you felt some of the pressure lift off your shoulders. Releasing some of your anxiety, you smiled at her. “Thank you, Mary. I’ll think about it.”

…

Walking out of your room, you headed out into the kitchen only to stop as you spotted Sam and Dean leaning over the bench, drinking greedily as they stood their in dirty and sweaty clothes. You could see a sheen of sweat on their skin as the sun came in through the window, shining right on them.

To say it wasn’t one of the hottest things you’d ever seen would be a lie. Just because you’d been through your own Hell doesn’t mean you couldn’t appreciate things, and you appreciated that view of the brothers. Especially Sam.

As if he could sense your eyes on him, Sam turned. “Hey!” He beamed.

You couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Hi. Busy day?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, stepping up to you. “We got a few more cars in. Emergency jobs. All hands on deck kind of day.” He came to stand in front of you… and that’s when his smell hit 

“Whoa,” laughing lightly, you pressed your hand to his chest to hold him back. “You stink.”

“It’s not that bad, is it?” Grabbing his shirt, he lifted it to his nose and took a whiff, only to pull back in disgust. “Okay, yeah, I stink. I’ll go jump in the shower, and then…” he hesitated, grabbing your hand as his eyes watched you carefully, “you wanna hangout?”

“That would be nice.”

“Good.” Giving your hand a squeeze, he then let you go and walked off… leaving you alone with Dean.

Dean had kept his distance since you’d opened up to him, but it wasn’t him being rude. When you did catch short moments where you were both in the same room he was more awkward than rude. He didn’t shut you down like he used to, now he mostly fumbled. Every time he tried talking it was like he was doing everything in his power not to insult you. It was getting a little frustrating, if you were being honest.

As soon as Sam was gone Dean began to shift. You were standing between him and any exit out of the house, or out of the room. So getting to an exit meant passing you, and that was apparently too much for him.

“Dean.”

His head shot up and turned to you, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“I’m not some fragile doll. I’m not gonna fall apart if you talk to me. I know things beforehand were a little rough, and that’s what led to me breaking down, but that doesn’t mean everything you say to me will get that reaction. If I’m gonna stay here, in your home and with your family, I want you to feel comfortable.”

“I can’t feel comfortable knowing I was an ass to you, judging you, when I had no right. Not when you’ve been through everything you have.”

“No one knows my story when we first meet. I’ve been treated horribly, and I’ve been treated nicely. Yes, you hurt a little and that fact everyone else has been so welcoming kinda made it worse, but I’m not holding that against you. You shouldn’t either.”

“Sam does,” he noted, surprising you. “He’s been different since that day. Not just with me. He knows you’re on the edge of leaving, of running. Even if you don’t run off now, he knows once your car is ready you’ll be gone. He thinks I haven’t been helping the situation.”

“Whether I leave right away or not has got nothing to do with anyone but me,” you assured him. “You were an ass, I’m not gonna beat around the bush. Doesn’t mean you  _ are _ an ass. If I ran away from every asshole out there I’d never stop moving. I run away from the good things, not the bad things.”

Leaning back against the counter, he frowned a little. “I don’t know if I want you to tell my brother that or not.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Well, I don’t want him to think I’m pushing you out the door. But I don’t want him thinking he’s the reason you might leave. You make him happy and if he thinks getting close to you will chase you away it’ll drive him insane.”

Sam’s feelings towards you weren’t exactly unknown. He’d made it clear he wants to get to know you. It was scary to think he could get close, that he could like you, and that all over that could hurt either of you.

It was getting to the point where if you didn’t turn away now someone will get hurt no matter what, and the last thing you wanted to do was hurt him. Yet you were still here, still thinking things over, taking your time when you should be leaving. You should be putting as much space between the two of you as possible.

“Hey!” Sam came back into the room, wrapping an arm around your waist as he smiled down at you.

“That was a quick shower,” you noted, trying to smile back despite the fact your conversation with Dean had stirred up some fresh anxiety.

“Didn’t want to keep you waiting.” He gave you a gentle squeeze. “You wanna go hangout?”

“Sure.”

Stepping around you, he grabbed your hand and started to back up towards the front door. While he didn’t tell you where you were going or what you’d be doing, you trusted and let him lead you away. Before disappearing outside, however, you looked back over your shoulder at Dean who was watching the two of you with concern in his eyes that made you feel a little uneasy.

As much as you hoped it wasn’t too late the look on Dean’s face told you the truth. Time had run out a while ago. If you were to leave, it was going to hurt everyone.

**Bamby**


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Fluff.
> 
> Bamby

With your hand in his, Sam helped you up onto the back of the tow truck. He didn’t let you go as the two of you walked to the end of it and sat down. Shoulders brushing against each other’s, the two of you fell into a silence that was actually quite comfortable.

You were always comfortable around Sam…

“So,” he started suddenly, drawing your attention to him, “I’ve been giving you some space.”

A smile tugged on your lips. “I noticed.”

“I wanted to give you some time to think. To sort through your thoughts. I was hoping it would help you make your mind up… has it?”

“About leaving?”

“Yeah.”

“Not really,” you laughed lightly. “Everything is still so very, very,  _ very _ confusing. I want to run like hell, but I find myself stuck here. Not just because I literally have no way to run, but because… everyone here is so kind and welcoming and it honestly feels like the perfect place to just  _ finally _ settle. But then there’s you.” You gestured to him, spotting the very confused look on his face.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. The guy who… do you know what a meet cute is?”

“No,” he chuckled. “It sounds like a chick-flick thing, and we don’t really do chick-flicks.”

“Well meeting you was like a moment in a chick-flick movie. I mean I break down on the side of the road and you show up, and every moment since then has been one knight-in-shining-armour move after another. And it is so hard not to fall for all of that.”

“Fall?” He raised a quizzical eyebrow before the corner of his lips pulled up into a grin. “You falling for me?”

The wide eyed look you gave him wiped the grin from his face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his, silencing him.

It took a short moment for it to register before he kissed you back, lifting a hand to cup the side of your face and hold you close as he deepened the kiss. Lips turning up into a smiling against his, you melted into the touch.

Pulling back, he gazed up at you with a slight fearful curiosity. “I don’t want to do anything to ruin the moment.”

“Maybe that’s our problem? We’re so worried about ruining the moment… I’m tired of running, Sam. I can’t make any promises-”

“And neither can I.”

“- but I want to at least enjoy this moment while it lasts.” Running your fingers through his hair, you stared into the kaleidoscope colour of his eyes. “I just had this conversation with your brother-”

“Oh God.” He cringed, leaning back against the truck. “How did he screw things up this time?”

Laughing, you shook your head at him. “He didn’t. In fact, he kinda made some good points. Kinda helped me realise a few things.”

“Like what?”

“Even if I run now… people are gonna get hurt.” You lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “Your parents worry about me like they’ve known me forever. They… they’re…”

“Like parents?” he asked, lifting a hand to brush a few stray strands of hair behind your ear.

You nodded quickly, unable to actually say the words. “They’ve taken care of me ever since they realised I was around. I know if I were to pack up and go it would stress them both out. And even though he and I started off rocky, Dean would worry, too. Not just about me, though. He worries about you.”

“Because I’m falling, too?” He didn’t need you to answer the question. He knew he was on point.

“It’s crazy that we’ve known each other for, like, a week and we already feel so… weird.”

“I wouldn’t call it weird.”

“It’s a defence mechanism,” you countered. “Getting invested so quickly is one thing. Verbalising it makes it far too real far too fast. Baby steps.”

“Baby steps.” He gave a short nod.

Smiling, you leaned back against the truck and rested your head on his shoulder as the two of you looked up at the sky.

“Your mum mentioned a barbeque.”

“It’s a town thing. We all meet up at Bobby’s place. Everyone brings something to eat, something to drink. It’s just a way to stay connected,” he explained.

“Who is Bobby?”

“My dad’s best friend… and half the part owner of the town.”

“Part owner?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “A new freeway was built and the town started losing a lot of traffic. We were gonna become a ghost town. Bobby Singer’s family had founded the town nearly a century ago, and had owned it since then. But then things got bad he had no choice but to turn to Crowley.”

“Crowley?” You looked up at him, keeping your head on his shoulder. “Sounds like a villian from Harry Potter or something.”

“No,” Sam chuckled. “The guy is actually nice. He built the hotel that Garth now runs.”

“It’s not the kind of big and fancy hotel I would expect in this kind of situation. Don’t people who buy towns normally tear it down and make it a tiny city?”

“This isn’t a movie.” He grinned, amused. “The hotel was actually already part of the town, so he just fixed it up. Kept it true to itself. Crowley wants to keep the town the way he found it, but just enhance it. Like I said, he’s not a bad guy”

“He sounds… nice.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I guess I’m used to bad things always happening.”

Turning to face you more, he cupped your cheek again, looking down to catch your gaze. “I’m gonna show you that not everything ends badly.”

“I’d like that.”

Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

As he pulled back, you leaned against the truck again. “So this barbeque… your mum is wondering if I want to go or not.”

“Do you?”

“Well it depends.”

“On what?”

“Will you be going?” you asked, unable to stop yourself from smiling as your cheeks flushed. Flirting wasn’t exactly a skill of yours.

His face lit up at your attempt, and then his smile turned into a grin. “Let me get back to you on that one?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Giving a sharp nod, he leaned in once more to give you another kiss.

Letting the subject go, you melted into the kiss and let him hold you. When you’d told Sam you wanted to enjoy the moment more you were telling the truth. While you were certain it was going to take some work to fight the urge to protect yourself- and others- by running, you were determined to at least give things ago.

…

Mary had cooked some spaghetti for dinner, which you’d all enjoyed while watching Dr. Sexy M.D.- which you’d been surprised and amused to find out it was a guilty pleasure of Dean’s. John had wanted to watch the news, but Mary had taken control of the channels and refused to change it over for him.

Afterwards you’d helped with the clean up, along with Sam. It had become obvious very quickly that he’d offered to help to hangout with you. The way he leaned in a little closer than necessary, always grinning at you. He loved to make you giggle and blush like a schoolgirl.

When it got too nauseating for Dean, you and Sam headed to your room to hangout. A couple of hours later you were still sitting on your bed, leaning against the headboard with his hand on yours.

“You know that room outside the window?” He gestured to the only window in the room. “That’s my room.”

Following his finger, you looked out to see a window with a curtain drawn to block your view into the room. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, dropping his hand. “I’ve been really tempted to look into your room at night. Not in a creepy way,” he assured you. “But ever since that night you woke up screaming, I’ve felt really guilty I wasn’t there to help you.”

“Not that I’m upset about it or anything, but if your room is right there, how did you not hear me scream?”

“Oh uh,” he chuckled, embarrassed, “I sleep with earplugs in. Dean snores… and sometimes brings women home. I try to block out all possible disturbing sounds.”

“Don’t you mean disruptive?”

“No. The sex noises are disturbing.”

Laughing, you shook your head at him. “Well then you’re absolutely forgiven for not hearing me.”

“Good.” Shifting a little, he glanced down at you quickly. “Now that you’ve forgiven me, I was wondering…”

“Mmhmm?” 

“Would… would you like to go to the barbeque… with me?”

Eyes going wide, you tensed out of shock. “As in… a date?”

“Only if that’s what you want,” he rushed, not wanting to scare you off.

Chewing your lip, staring straight ahead, you contemplated the thought. Going on a date with Sam would be fun- you had no doubt- but it also blurred some lines. Were you really ready to let down some of those walls you’d worked so hard on building up around you?

“If it helps, I’ll be going early with Dad and Dean to help Bobby clean and set up. So we don’t have to go together. You can go with Mum and meet me there. And then… we can just hangout.”

“Together.”

“It’ll be like how we hangout normally, if that’s what you want.”

“Can… can we just play it by ear? For now?” you asked, looking up at him.

Searching your gaze, he took a moment before nodding. “I’m cool with that.”

“Thank you.” You smiled sweetly at him.

“But just so we’re clear, you’re definitely going to the barbeque?”

“Yes.”

“Cool. I’ll let Mum know on my way out later.” Looking down at your intertwined fingers, he hesitated a moment before asking, “Would it be okay if I kissed you again? I don’t wanna freak you out…”

“You’re okay, Sam,” you assured him, turning your body to face him a little better. “And it would be more than okay. It would be perfect.”

Smiling back at you, he leaned in to press his lips to yours again, causing all worries and thoughts about barbeques and dates to fade.

**Bamby**


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Fluff. I honestly thought there might at least be a hint of smut in this chapter, but the plot took control so you’re gonna have to wait a little longer, sorry...
> 
> Bamby

The couple of days after you agreed to go to the barbeque with Sam did nothing to ease your nerves. To be fair, you were naturally anxious, so it didn’t really matter if you were going to stay home all day or go out to meet dozens of people while on a sort of date with Sam… your stomach was going to be doing flips.

It was the date part that made you, surprisingly, less scared than you’d anticipated. The idea of having to socialise with so many strangers made you want to hide in a closet somewhere. But knowing Sam was going to be there actually helped.

He was always so kind and understanding. He did everything with your best interest in mind. If things got too be too much for you, you had no doubt that he would make things better. How? You weren’t sure. But Sam had a knack for doing things perfectly.

Standing in your bedroom, you were staring at your open suitcase when there was a knock on your door.

Looking over your shoulder, you called out, “Come in.”

A moment later, you were surprised to see Charlie waltz into the room.

“Charlie? What are you doing here?”

She shrugged, smiling widely as she moved to sit on your bed, right next to your suitcase. “Sam told me about your  _ date _ .” Her smile turned into a grin. “Dean also texted me and said you’ve been a nervous wreck.”

“Dean texted you? About me?”

“The guy can be a dick, but as soon as you get on his good side the dude treats you like family,” she noted as she reached out to pick at the few items of clothing she could see in your suitcase. “Is this everything you own?”

“Pretty much.” You nodded.

Humming, she turned away from the clothes and looked back up at you. “Do you trust me?”

“I don’t really know you…”

“Mrs. Winchester!” Charlie bellowed, and a second later your door opened against as Mary ducked in.

“Charlie,” she beamed, “what a lovely surprise.”

“I know.” Charlie shrugged.

Stepping further into the room, Mary looked from Charlie, to you and then back. “How can I help?”

“Y/N says she doesn’t know me, so she can’t trust me, I was hoping you could put in a good word… and then maybe join us on a little shopping adventure.”

“Shopping?” Your eyes went wide as you shook your head. “Oh no, I couldn’t-”

“You can, and you will.” Mary gave a firm nod. “Sweetie, you don’t own much. It’s time your wardrobe got a bit of an upgrade.”

“Yes!” Charlie jumped to her feet and wrapped an arm around your waist. “Lucky for us, Balt has some great new things.”

…

The bell rang above the door as you, Charlie and Mary entered the small clothing store on the main street. You were met with an array of colours and materials, all meticulously organised in the bright white room. Mirrors covered every blank wall, making it hard for you not to see yourself as the two women ushered you further into the building.

A man walked out of an office behind the front counter. Dressed in a dark grey deep v shirt, black coat, black jeans… the guy looks like he should be lounging in some nightclub, rather than some small town. He wasn’t exactly bad on the eyes.

“Mrs Winchester, Charlotte, who do we have here?” You were caught by surprise by his British accent. 

“This is Y/N.” Mary rested her hands on your shoulders as he headed towards you. “She’s been staying with my family and I.”

Coming to a stop in front of you, he let his eyes looking you up and down openly. “She’s pretty.” You squirmed under the comment, catching his attention. “Oh, this is going to be fun.” He grinned at your discomfort. “The name is Balthazar,” he introduced himself, offering you his hand.

“Balthazar?” you asked, taking his hand. It was such a peculiar name.

“I had ecentric parents,” he explained before you were suddenly being led through the room, his grip on your hand tight as he practically dragged you. “You’re not going to like everything I tell you to try on, but you  _ will _ try it on. You walked into my shop. You had a choice, that was your choice, now you’re here and I have all the control. Understood?”

Swallowing thickly, you looked from him to Mary and Charlie. “Um…”

Charlie nodded encouragingly. “Trust him.”

“I’m not going to make you look ugly,” Balthazar assured you as he led you to a change room by some couches. “You think I’d dress you in my own things and make you looked horrible?” Scoffing, he shook his head and held the curtain open. “Get inside. Come on.”

Doing as he said, you scampered into the small space and watched as he then closed the curtain, closing you off to the rest of the world.

On the other side, he called, “Now, I’m going to gather clothes, you’re going to get undressed. When I hand you things you put them on, and once you’re dressed you show the rest of us. And you  _ trust _ what we have to say.”

Standing there, you listened as he walked off, leaving you to take your clothes off.

A moment later he returned, shoving his hand into the change room with a strict order, “Put it on. Don’t complain.”

With a sigh, you took the hanger from his grasp and stared at the dress he’d picked. It was a baby blue button down summer dress, with tiny white polka dots all over it. The sleeves were short… and so was the skirt of it. Even just looking at it, you knew it was going to be at least mid thigh.  _ At least _ .

“Balta-”

“Put it on. Don’t complain,” he repeated, standing right outside. “These too.” Shoving his hand in again, he offered flat, white, bowed sandals, and a straw bag that would hang over your shoulder.

“Really, sir, I’m more of a jeans and shirt girl. I don’t do… pretty.” Your style was all about hiding, and there was no way you weren’t going to get noticed in the outfit he’d picked.

“Put. The. Clothes. On. And don’t call me sir.”

Sighing once more, you did as he said. You didn’t even bother looking in the mirror before you stepped out of the change room, with your eyes glued to the ground.

Mary and Charlie sat on a couch, waiting while Balthazar stood next to them. The three took in your look, but you couldn’t tell what their reactions were with your eyes stuck to the floor.

“Y/N, you look lovely,” Mary assured you.

Dragging your eyes up, you met her gaze and saw a genuine smile on her face. They all looked pretty surprised and pleased, actually.

“I’m jealous of Sam,” Charlie blurted.

Balthazar grinned. “Sam?”

“Oh… no… um…” You shifted on your feet awkwardly.

“You know, I have a lingerie section, too.” He winked at you.

Your face burned hot with embarrassment. “I’m okay, thank you.”

Pushing off the couch, Mary gave Balthazar a stern look. “None of that, thank you.” When her eyes turned to you. “Come on, sweetie. We’ll pay for your outfit and then head over to Bobby’s.”

...

With Mary taking the lead, and Charlie right next to you, they guided you around the large blue sliding home of Bobby Singer, all the way around to the backyard. The closer you got the more you could hear, and without even seeing everyone yet you already knew there were going to be a lot of people.

Clutching the strap of your new bag, and tugging on your dress, you huddled behind Charlie ever so slightly as the three of you rounded the corner.

There had to be about thirty people gathered around, drinking and eating, laughing and talking. There were children, teens, and adults. There were singles and families. Everyone seemed to know most people, and no matter what they were mostly all smiling and beaming.

Scanning the crowd, it too a moment for you to spot the one person you really wanted to see.

He stood with his father and a man around the same age as John. The three of them were gathered around the barbeque as John flipped patties and turned sausages for the entire crowd. With a beer in hand and a smile on his face, Sam looked so comfortable and at home around all these people. He’d scrubbed up well, too, considering earlier that morning he’d been at work and then had helped set the place up for the party.

As if he could feel your gaze on him, Sam tore his eyes away from the two older men and looked to you. Right away his already beaming face lit up brighter.

“Come on.” Charlie nudged you with a huge grin before she started towards the man who held your attention.

Following her, you meandered through the groups of people until you finally reached Sam.

Right away, he stepped towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You smiled shyly, looking down at the ground.

Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to your temple and whispered, “You look beautiful.”

Feeling flushed and flustered, you turned into him a little more and surprise yourself as you stepped up onto your toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Sam… who’s this?”

Pulling away from you, his smile never faltering, Sam turned to his father and the other man. “Bobby, this is Y/N.”

Bobby looked you up and down, seemingly curious and cautious, but right as the look began to make you feel uneasy and nervous he cracked a small smile. “The boy hasn’t shut up about you all day and now I can see why. You seem like a nice girl. Sam’s lucky.”

Gazing down at you, Sam gave you a small squeeze. “I know.”

**Bamby**


End file.
